


Always

by silverneko9lives0



Series: Sanzeuh Kumathelh [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, BAMF Bilbo, Bilbo is Prince Charming, Established Relationship, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Snow White Elements, Thorin as Snow White, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3208238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin doesn’t believe in true love or Sanzeuh. He didn’t want to believe in them. But it’s hard to deny what you feel, no matter how much you want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot prepare you enough for all the OUAT references that are bound to come up in this fic...

~One Month Ago~

_Thorin stood outside the door, the sense of being lassoed still with him despite trying to dodge it again, but standing on the porch, he knew it came from inside. He could hear laughter and shouting from within. Steeling himself, he pounded on the door._

_Silence, then the fall of feet, the door opened._

_“Gandalf,” Thorin said. Well at least this was the right place. He stepped inside and felt a deep thrumming in his fingers. For some reason, he felt more relaxed here then he did anywhere else. He removed his cloak and hung it up._

_“Bilbo Baggins, may I introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield.”_

_Thorin looked at “Bilbo Baggins.” He was, indeed, a Hobbit with a mop of bronze yellow hair, grey-green eyes, and he was tapping his great big foot on the ground._

_“So this is the Hobbit,” he said._ My san—no. Sanzeuh do not exist! They’re fairytales! It is not possible!

_“Tell me Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?”_

_“I—I beg your pardon?”_

_“Ax or sword. What’s you’re weapon of choice?”_ This is your one chance to convince me you can do the job Gandalf insists you do. Prove to me you’re worthy.

_“Well, I do have some skills at conkers if you must know.”_

That does not count.

_“But I fail to see how that is relevant.”_

_“I thought as much.” He ignored the stern glare Gandalf threw him. “He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” This earned a few chuckles, but he didn’t expect the Hobbit to growl and take a step toward him. Nor did he expect him to poke him in the chest._

_“Excuse me, but who do you think you are, coming into my house, eating my food, and then have the nerve to insult me?!” The Hobbit demanded to know._

_Thorin arched a brow. Well, Gandalf wasn’t lying about him being plucky._

_“I may not be some warrior, but I am not above slapping your face with a frying pan! Especially after my pantry being raided by obstinate Dwarves!”_

_“Are you backing out of the agreement?”_

_“What agreement?”_

_“You didn’t tell him?” Fili asked, horror in his voice._

_“Tell me what?”_

_“I did tell him,” Gandalf snapped._

_“You just showed up this morning and told me you wanted me to go on a blasted adventure! I told you no!”_ This morning?!!

~Rivendell~

Since that night, the obstinate Hobbit had been on his mind more than he really had a right to be. Thorin almost couldn’t shake him and when he was out his sight, Thorin was usually in a half messed state of anxiety trying to find him. The incident with the Trolls was bad enough—running blindly into that was stupid and _why the hell_ did he order the others to put their weapons down?! One Hobbit was not…

_Ugh…_

He couldn’t think properly where Bilbo Baggins was concerned.

“I shan’t be missed, I think.”

Thorin paused and looked out in the veranda. The Elf lord leaned against the banister next to the Hobbit and the sight made it seem like one of Dis’ corsets were actually around his chest and pulled too tightly (not that he knew about corsets. Dis complained about them often enough when she lived…).

“Really?” the Elf asked. “I heard it said that Hobbits are amazingly resilient.”

“Oh?” Bilbo asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and cheeks hinting pink. The metaphorical corset tightened just a little more and Thorin ground his teeth.

“Indeed. I _also_ heard they are fond of the comforts of home.”

Bilbo hummed. “Well, I’ve heard not to trust the wisdom of Elves for they will answer ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in the same breath.” The Elf smiled. “And that was a mite rude—”

“Not at all, Master Baggins,” the Elf said. “You’re welcome to stay, if you like. Rivendell will always welcome you as an esteemed guest.”

“Well, I promise I won’t be tossing my food about or dancing on tables,” Bilbo said and the Elf laughed heartily. Thorin spun around and strode away, hands shaking.

“There you are,” Dwalin said. A jar of biscuits tucked under his arm. “Where’ve you been hiding?” Thorin stopped and slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a fist-sized indent in the stone—some of the only stone to be seen in this accursed valley—and Dwalin halted. “Thorin?”

Thorin looked at the damage and swallowed. “I’m fine,” he lied. Whom he meant to convince, he could not say, but it certainly wasn’t convincing Dwalin.

“Is it the Hobbit?”

“No.”

“Would you like a biscuit?”

Thorin stared at them. “I would like to spar.”

Dwalin sighed and looked at the jar. “I suppose these can wait, but I doubt Ori will be willing to hide them for me.”

“You could ask Balin.”

“Balin would hand them out to everyone before I got my hand on one. _One_. There is no end to the torture my family likes to put me through. You’ve _Nori_ for a nephew-in-law and you have it easier than I! T’is not fair.”

“Are you going to gripe or are you going to spar with me?” Thorin demanded.

“How about you have a cookie and we talk instead. Way you’re acting, I bet it has to do with Master Baggins again.”

“Dwalin…”

“You know that we know what’s going on. Just talk to him without scowling at him or being grumpy.”

“You’re a bastard,” Thorin snarled. “And there’s _nothing_ going on.”

“Bullshit: he’s you’re Sanzeuh.”

Thorin seized his shirt, eyes flashing. “I am glad you found someone to spend the rest of your life with. Same with the rest of the company. I’m _glad_ you all have happy, bountiful marriages. But Sanzeuh are fairy tales, Dwalin. It’s bad enough that Kili and Fili entertain it—it’s the only thing I really hate about Dis’ parenting. Filling their heads with hope of a myth—”

Dwalin peeled his hand off, looking at him with _pity_. “I’ve known you since we were bairns, Thorin. I know you feel it stronger than most and have felt it for far longer. You’ve done a good job convincing yourself, but as your friend and shield brother, I can’t make it plainer: he’s your One. He might not feel it, but you do. He isn’t going to pursue you. So get off your high horse and tell him you would like to court him.”

Thorin growled. “I’ll ask _Balin_ to spar with me. Better yet, I’ll ask Dori! I could use a bloody challenge!” He was seething. Why was everyone he traveling with so…

He paused seeing Kili with Nori. His youngest nephew was lecturing his husband over something. Likely Nori’s sticky fingers, if nothing else. Nori took Kili’s arm and pressed their foreheads together, whispering to him till Kili was smiling affectionately. If nothing else, Thorin was appeased to know that Kili was happy with Nori. And likewise that even on the worst days, Fili would end up with a big smile on his face when with Bofur.

And that was if they got to the mountain in one piece.

Thorin strode down the hall, convinced more than ever that he needed to fight someone to relieve his tension before he broke completely and razed Imladris to the ground in his rage. He didn’t even understand partly _why_ the Elf inviting the company’s burglar got under his skin this much. It wasn’t rational. It wasn’t logical. He barely managed to speak to the Hobbit without chewing his head off, which in turn got _his own_ head chewed off.

The Hobbit was definitely plucky and Thorin would be lying if he said he wasn’t… _slightly_ entertained by watching him fly off the handle. All in all, the idea of Bilbo Baggins being _anywhere_ Thorin couldn’t seemed to do nothing but get under his skin and stay there, like a particularly bad itch he couldn’t quite reach and he’d yet to find a back scratcher. If that wasn’t bad enough, it was the constant declaration that Bilbo was, in fact, his other half, his One, his _Sanzeuh_. It made him want to bang his head against a wall and knock himself unconscious.

“Dori,” he called, “Spar with me.”

Dori arched a brow. “Why not Dwalin?”

“He’s being an ass,” was all he said. Dori pursed his lips at the insult directed at his twice brother-in-law, but picked up his mace and followed Thorin into the training ground.

“Care to clarify?” Dori asked.

“No,” Thorin said, pulling Orcrist out of it’s sheath. For an Elven blade, it was quite addictive holding it. It was light to his hand, but immensely powerful. With a war cry, Dori charged at him.

_“Nidoyel,” a wizened voice said. Thorin clutched his knees tighter and refused to look up. “Well, you don’t look like you’ve scraped your knee or bumped your head,” Thror said. Thorin still didn’t meet his grandfather’s gaze. Thror sighed and sat beside him. “Come now, Thorin. What ails you, Laddie? What makes you weep so?”_

_He shook his head. “N-nothing, Grandfather,” he hiccupped. “It’s nothing. I’m okay. P-promise.” Thror patted his head and Thorin at last looked up._

_“I see. Nothing wrong and everything wrong. Your friends have been worried. They want to know why you’ve stopped playing with them, Nidoyel. Dwalin mentioned that you have the Longing. Is that so?”_

_Thorin bit his lip and nodded. “It hurts, Grandfather. It just…it hurts and it won’t stop. I just want it to stop…” Thror patted his back._

_“It will stop when you find your One,” Thror said. “And you will find them, Thorin. Someday. It is very likely, though, that you’re One will be of another people. A Man or an Elf, likely.”_

_“Not an Elf, right?”_

_“That is not something I can control, let alone Mahal,” Thror said. “I will welcome your One into our family, even if they are an Elf. All we can hope is that we_ do _find them, Thorin. You’re a strong lad. You’ll find them one day and what a day that will be!”_

_Thorin bit his lip, it would be better if this feeling just left him be. It was too painful._

_More painful than anything…_

Dori was holding back. It likely had to do with Thorin being the king, but Thorin _hated_ it when people held back because of his rank. That was what he liked about sparring with Dwalin. Dwalin didn’t hold back. Dwalin didn’t care if he was the king, he’d kick Thorin’s ass if he could.

He cut the spar short and thanked Dori. It wasn’t a true challenge (there should be no possible way for him to defeat Dori), but he was worked ragged enough to relieve some of the tension that had built in him earlier. He wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve and sheathed Orcrist in time to see Bilbo return and in conversation with Ori. There was some…hesitancy in the depths of his eyes.

 _He better keep to the contract, tempted to stay here or no_ , Thorin thought, trying to drown out the more betraying thought that stated more loudly than he liked: _I’d rather he stay here than get hurt again._

“We found a fountain!” Bofur shouted. “Who wants to go swimming?!”

Well if Thorin left out that the fountains were not for bathing…it’d be some way to get back at the blasted Elf for trying to steal Bilbo away from him— _Them_. Not him. Them. He sighed and seconded Bofur’s proposition. He could use a bath.

“Coming Bilbo?” Ori asked.

“Ah…no, thank you,” Bilbo said. “I’ll stick with actual bathtubs, thanks. Enjoy your bath. Or whatever you like to call it. Just…I don’t think Elves favor public bathing.”

“Really? Sounds kind of prudish, you think?”

“Could just be cultural,” Bilbo said. “But really, go ahead and have fun. I’ll be in the library if I’m needed."

Ori nodded, frowning slightly. “I should be hunting down my husband anyway. Likely, he found the kitchens and has stolen all the biscuits.”Bilbo laughed and Thorin picked up his pace toward the fountain. Bar running, he couldn’t get there fast enough if he tried.


	2. Chapter 2

Thorin returned to the balcony where the company had camped out, halfway removing his coat to sit beside his nephews when he noticed one of their number missing. “Where’s the Halfling?”

“Hobbit,” Bofur corrected. Ah, yes. Wouldn’t want to go insulting Bilbo’s sensibilities even when he wasn’t around. “And he said he’d be wandering about rather than be here when we get caught destroying and defacing the Elf’s property.”

Thorin hummed and fixed his coat on. “I’ll go find him,” he muttered to no one in particular. Thorin didn’t like the feelings he got when he was close to Bilbo, but if nothing else, they worked wonderfully like beacons in the night. He found Bilbo standing at the top of the stairs, looking at the valley at another angle. Perhaps to him it was beautiful, Thorin found it too big and too cold.

“Bur—”

“You can trust I know what I’m doing,” Gandalf said. Thorin paused and tuned his ears.

“Do you?” Elrond asked. “That dragon has slept for sixty years. What would happen if your plan would fail and you wake it?”

“If the Dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the east will be strengthened.”

“This is a dangerous move, Gandalf.”

“It is also dangerous to do nothing! Come now: the throne of Erebor is Thorin’s birthright.”

At last, Bilbo noticed him. Their eyes met for a moment, then he looked away.

“Have you forgotten: a strain of madness runs deep in that family,” Elrond said. “His grandfather lost his mind, his _father_ fell to the same sickness. Do you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?” Thorin looked down, not wanting to hear more, but unable to move.

_I know my limits. I know it could happen. I have to hope…there is very little worth in hoping…_

“This decision rests not on us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth…” Their voices faded and Thorin sighed.

“Thorin?” He looked at Bilbo again. He wanted to pull him in his arms, seek his comfort if he would give it. He did neither and Bilbo did not reach for him. He tucked his thumbs in his pockets and swayed on his feet. “Well, I don’t know about you, but what Lord Elrond and Gandalf said was rather rude.”

Thorin arched a brow. “Do you think they’re right?”

“Does it matter? What is _your_ reason for going on this quest?”

“Them,” he said nudging toward the fire built by their companions. “My people who are still to this day treated as scum by the native Dwarves of the Blue Mountains…Balin thinks otherwise, but I am not a great king. I’m good enough when we’re on the move, but since settling there, we’ve…it’s not been good.”

“I think the worth of a king is decided by the people and not the king. Is that their opinion of you or is it your own opinion? Frankly, I can’t say I understand personally, but I do need to assure you that my people experienced an exodus of their own…ages and ages ago, granted.” He shrugged. “By my account, you’re not a bad king, Thorin, just a very grumpy one on your best days.”

“And you’ve seen me at my best?”

“Nope. I asked your nephews. Kili does an _excellent_ impression. I mean no offense, but one would think he’s your son, not your nephew, given his impression.”

Thorin smirked. “Aye. I’ve been told. Several have assumed he was my son before. It’s happened often enough I gave up correcting them after a while. Believe it or not, Fili’s the mild one out of the three of us. Get Kili angry enough and you’ll never tell us apart.”

Bilbo laughed. “He was wrong. You’re not grumpy. You’re sarcastic.”

“And that is better?”

“Of course,” Bilbo said. “It means you’re funny.”

“Perish the thought.”

Bilbo nodded. “Oh, I agree. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it secret. No one will have to know you’re secretly a comedian.”

“I should warn you that Dwalin and Balin are also privy to this secret.”

“Naturally,” Bilbo sighed. “I’m sure they’ve kept it all this time.” Thorin nodded.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘kept’.”

“True.” He glanced at the fire. “Perhaps we should go back.”

“We should. We leave early in the morning while the sun still slumbers.” Thorin narrowed his eyes at Bilbo, who nearly jumped at the sudden shift in character. “You will be ready.”

Thorin was then met by an equally dark glower. “You doubt me?”

“I heard Elrond’s offer. It is quite enticing.”

“Enticing or not, I am not the kind of Hobbit who backs out of a promise,” Bilbo snapped. “If we are leaving early, then I must bid you goodnight, Master Oakenshield.”

Their shoulders barely brushed when Bilbo strode past him and Thorin clenched his fists to his side to stop from grabbing him. Once the feeling passed, he relaxed. He didn’t hear Bilbo or see him until the Hobbit’s hand touched his arm.

“Thorin, I know you're concerned with the quest and all, but you are ridiculously easy to read,” he said. "I was informed that your actions toward me are just...I know. I get it. A quest is not ideal for a courtship, but just know that if you're willing, so am I." With taht, Bilbo scurried off.

Thorin watched him leave, stunned. All sense told him to follow, to pursue, to answer…He pushed the thoughts down and rubbed the back of his neck instead. Bilbo was right: a quest was no proper situation for properly courting someone. There was also the problem of _why_ Bilbo would feasibly want him. He’d done nothing to make Bilbo like him…

_Kili? Balin?_

Who would tell him?

Thorin went back to the company and called the two of them over.

“Did you tell Bilbo?”

“Tell him what?” Balin asked. He looked genuinely confused, but _Kili…_ The little brat!

“Kili…”

“I _may_ have mentioned that you were emotionally constipated when it came to romance and that your actions were little more than a school boy pulling a girl’s pigtails. As for the Sanzeuh part of your predicament, well, I don’t think Bilbo is ready to know about that.”

“Kili—”

“Uncle, he likes you, you like him, what’s the problem? Outside that you don’t want to believe he is who you _know_ he is, what reason do you have for pushing him aside and making him think you despise him when in fact you really want to lock him with you in a bedroom. Mahal knows you need to get laid.”

Thorin grit his teeth. “Kili, I do not think that is your decision to make!”

“No. It’s yours. But if I can push you to do it, by Mahal’s forge, I will.”

Balin hid his face in his hand and shook his head. Thorin wanted to smack Kili aside the head. “Here’s an idea: worry about your own love life.”

A large shit-eating grin decorated Kili’s face. “Already did, remember?”

Thorin glared at him, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You little—”

“Kili?” Nori said. “This going to go on any longer, _Sankhajima_?”

“No,” Kili said, glancing at Thorin. “I’ll be there in moment, _lukhudel_.” Nori hummed went to their bedroll. “I don’t see how helping you pull your head out of your arse is a bad thing. At least he knows you like him and he likes you too. I want you to be happy, Thorin. Think on that, at least. Goodnight.”

Kili turned and went to join Nori. Thorin shook his head and turned to Balin. “Where does he get the nerve?”

“Your sister,” Balin said. “It’s rather close to what she would do if she were here to see you.” Thorin didn’t want to admit it, but _damn_ if Balin wasn’t right. It _was_ something Dis would’ve done. “Would it really be that bad if you opened up to him?”

Thorin sighed. “Let’s say Ones do exist for a moment,” he said. “I’m sending him into a dragon’s den. How exactly am I to allow myself to get close to him? I’ve waited a long time, Balin. If he is my One, I cannot let him continue this journey.”

Balin cleared his throat. “A Dwarf’s One is not only someone he cherishes and desires to protect, but someone who can do the same for you. Dori is strong and very independent. If I were to coddle him, he’d probably punch my nose in. Needless to say, if he needs my help, I will be there to help him. Bilbo is not weak. He knows exactly what awaits him inside Erebor and still he comes. You need to respect that he knows what he’s doing and that he won’t back out when things get tough.”

“I don’t even know if he knows what he’s doing. Most think dragon and go in the other direction.”

“We aren’t,” Balin reminded him. “Bilbo’s a clever one and braver than any other warrior I’ve met so far. You sell him short because of his heritage, but how is that any better than how we’ve been treated? To add, he does have feelings for you. That’s a win. You know he is affectionate. Why not show him you’re willing to try and treat him with the respect only your Sanzeuh deserves?”

Thorin sighed. “Let’s get to bed. We’ve a long journey tomorrow.”

Balin nodded and they joined the camp. Bilbo had already curled up in his spot, blanket pulled over his head. Thorin attempted to ignore him, not wanting to be seen by any that he was giving in. Oh, he wasn’t _ever_ going to admit Bilbo was his One, but that he cared for him was obviously out in the open.

He paused, glanced at him again and sighed. Thorin removed his coat and draped it over Bilbo, making a mental note to grab it before the Hobbit woke in the morning. Thorin climbed into his own bed roll and tried to sleep as dragons did:

With one eye open.

_“Can’t catch me! Can’t catch me!” Dis giggled as she and Frerin smacked wooden swords against each other. Thorin glanced up every so often from his book to look at his siblings. Just to make sure that Frerin didn’t hurt Dis or vice versa. Dis could be rather nasty when she wanted._

_“What is this?” Thror said, approaching them and beaming. The trio grinned._

_“We’re warriors,” Dis announced, almost losing her balance when she jabbed her sword in the air._

_“I’ve been watching them, if Adad asks,” Thorin said._

_“I’m sure you have been,” Thror said, arching a brow. Thorin ducked his head again while Thror engaged his other grandchildren in conversation. He looked up again and frowned._

_“Where’s grandmother?” he asked. Thror quieted and the tension did not pass over his younger siblings._

_“She’s not feeling well,” Thror answered after a moment, offering them a strained smile. “It happens to the best of us. It’s just a little sickness, but I don’t want you three being near your grandmother until she’s well enough to have visitors. We only need one of our family coughing and sneezing at a time.”_

_Thorin frowned. He didn’t tell Thror, but he had visited Hrera in private. The illness that had taken over her was not a cold unless the colds old people got included coughing up blood._

Thorin’s eyes snapped open, startled by the memory.

Two days after that moment, his grandmother was buried and his grandfather began his descent into the madness. Regardless what others thought, it was not the Arkenstone that had driven Thror mad, at least not initially.

It was the loss of Queen Hrera, his grandfather’s “One.” True, he obsessed with gold and the King’s Jewel since he stopped mourning, making all together bad decisions since in his greed…

Thorin sat up and took his coat back before rousing the others from slumber. He shook Bilbo’s shoulder and Bilbo woke up with gasp, shaking.

“Time to get up,” Thorin said.

“R-right,” Bilbo said, voice shaking.

“Everything all right, Bilbo?”

“Yes, just…nightmares and bad memories.”

Nightmares and bad memories…Thorin knew their haunt as well as Bilbo and he wondered what torments the Hobbit had suffered, if any, in his life.

Still shaking, Bilbo got to his feet and quickly packed. Slowly his shivers shifted from fear to cold and Thorin didn’t know which tremor in Bilbo’s shoulders represented what anymore.

“I’d pull myself together if I were you,” Thorin said. “We’re about to step back into the wild. The Misty Mountains can be treacherous and are not for the faint of heart.”

Bilbo frowned and nodded. He put his pack over his shoulders and ran a hand through tussled hair. For a moment, he looked at Thorin as though he wanted to talk about something. He shook his head and followed the others out of Rivendell.


	3. Chapter 3

Bilbo Baggins was, by far, the strangest creature Thorin had encountered. He didn’t understand how he could forgive so readily. Thorin had been unfair to him and by right, Bilbo owed him no allegiance. He wasn’t even a Dwarf!

And yet, after _everything_ he said and nearly driving Bilbo to return to Rivendell in a storm, he still stood there, _smiling_. And then there was no time for him to do more than lower his eyes, ceding the battle that had been unconsciously going on between him and Bilbo (a battle Thorin admitted he began), before they were running from Azog.

Many things ran through his head when he saw Azog again:

The decapitated head of his grandfather. His father rushing into battle in his place. Cutting off Azog’s arm and watching him pale further from blood loss—no one ought to have survived that wound! Orcs are not…not…

And yet, he stood, stump healed and a hook driven through the flesh. His family had been left unavenged. The white hot rage at this _failure_ burned through him and scorched his reason to black char as he raced to meet his enemy in battle.

He almost died. He knew he had to at least try and survive…The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Bilbo placing his body between him and Thorin, swinging his tiny blade wildly.

After that, he woke.

“The Halfling?” he whispered. _Excuse me! But I’m NOT HALF of anything!!_

“He’s all right,” Gandalf said. “Bilbo’s here.” Thorin spied him and got to his feet. Again, harsh, biting words escaped his lips. Bilbo stood there, stunned. Perhaps speechless…Thorin enveloped him in a hug, feeling more relaxed then he had ever been in his life. Even whole.

He stepped back, still not quite able to let go of him. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Bilbo shrugged. “I doubted me too.”

_And you still came. You still are willing to try. Why?_

From there, Gandalf led them to this… _Beorn’s_ house. He could do without being chased by a giant bear, but beside that was to be expected. Once Gandalf explained more about their host, they settled down and built up the fire in the hearth.

“You weren’t nearly _this_ polite when you entered _my house_ uninvited,” Bilbo mumbled to himself. Thorin’s head snapped to him.

“What do you mean uninvited?”

Bilbo blinked. “I didn’t expect any of you to come. You just…showed up out of the blue and started making a ruckus.”

The deafening silence could withstand a knife and the Dwarves turned on Gandalf.

“You mean to tell us you knew nothing about our quest at the time we met?” Thorin asked. “That you weren’t just… _backing out_?”

“How could I be backing out if all I got was Gandalf telling me he wanted me to go on an adventure not twelve hours earlier? I told him no, and then you all showed up.”

One by one, the Dwarves turned to Gandalf, glaring at him. He looked particularly undisturbed by this revelation. There were even murmurs of tossing Gandalf outside to deal with the bear on his own, but not one of them was brave enough to actually dare it.

Instead, they took to giving their apologies to Bilbo and things finally made clear.

“We were lead to believe you had known at least for a couple months,” Fili said.

“Sorry about the crockery,” Kili mumbled. Thorin furrowed his brow.

“What did you do to Master Baggins’ crockery?” he growled at his nephews (all four of them). Nori and Bofur seemed unaffected, but Fili and Kili jumped like startled rabbits.

“Nothing,” they said. “Just…tossed them about a bit while helping clean up.”

“For the love of—”

“We got better at it!”

“That’s not the point, lads!”

“It’s fine! Nothing was broken. I think we all are on the same page now, so let it go, yeah?” Bilbo asked, looking at them. “I’m not _that_ upset by it anymore. Gloin was telling me about Ones before the bear and said I best ask the rest of you for more information.”

Balin and Oin glared at Gloin, who looked rather tickled.

“I understand if it’s one of your secrets or—”

“Oh, it’s fine, since you’re Thorin’s One,” Kili said, smirking. Thorin massaged his head.

“Pay him no mind, Master Baggins,” he sighed. “Ones are just a fairy tale we’ve made up. A myth.”

He ignored the glowers he received from that. It’s not as though they didn’t know his position on this! They knew very well!

“Even so, fairy tale or not, it sounds like something the lasses would fancy back home.”

“It likely is,” Thorin agreed.

“Oi!” Kili snapped.

“Leave it, Kili,” Nori sighed. “But it’s no trouble telling you about this, Bilbo. Some consider it a myth, others fact.”

“So…”

“Thorin’s outnumbered on the matter,” Fili said, sitting by the hearth. “Several of us here are married. You know Gloin is, and Bombur, they won’t shut up about missing their wives. But Bofur is my betrothed and Kili and Nori are married about a year now?”

“Aye,” Nori said. Bilbo blinked, looking at the four of them.

“But…won’t heirs be a problem?”

“That’s one of our guarded secrets,” Thorin said, narrowing his eyes at Kili.

“We’ll get to that in a bit,” Kili promised. “But to answer your question, it’s not a problem at all. Oh! Dori and Balin are also together and Ori and Dwalin are married. And Oin and Bifur have been together quite a few decades now, aye?”

“Eh?” Oin asked. Bifur nodded.

“Huh,” Bilbo said.

“You’re not bothered?” Dori asked, arching a brow. “My understanding was that the other Free Peoples were intolerant of same-sex relationships.”

“Oh! Well, the marriage part is not common among those of the same sex,” he said. “But for the most part, same-sex relations aren’t frowned on entirely in the Shire. Experimentation is actually encouraged and while children are wanted, it’s not really looked down on for two males or two females to live together as they can’t have children of their own…so! You’re all courting or engaged or married?”

They nodded.

“And this ties into…Ones…how—Oh, I think I got it: So, Nori and Kili are each other’s Ones? And Bofur and Fili are…Is that right?”

“Aye. Not everyone is so lucky, though,” Balin said.

“But some think it’s myth? But if it’s right in front of your face, you can’t really deny it?”

“Some do,” Kili said, staring at Thorin again.

“I’m sure Thorin has his reasons,” Bilbo said, glancing at him. Thorin met his gaze. Nothing but curiosity.

“For royalty, marriage has always been a political move,” he said. “Till now, as my nephews are more stubborn than the mountain.”

“As are you,” Kili muttered.

Thorin chose to ignore that. “True love does _not_ exist,” he said. “Not as I see it. All it has ever been for me and my kin was business transactions and arrangements.”

Bilbo hummed. “Perhaps on a romantic level, it doesn’t, but all together, I think true love _does_ exist. Unless you say the love between a mother and her child is untrue.”

That was a very good point.

“Aye, that is _not_ what I meant,” Thorin agreed.

“However, just because you don’t think it’s ‘true love’ doesn’t make it any less real for the rest of the company. You’re free to your opinions, Thorin, but at least don’t belittle what they feel.”

Fili and Kili snorted and Thorin blushed. Had he really been that callous? He simply thought it foolish to call what they felt…well…

He sighed. “That is very true. I cede this argument to you, Master Baggins.” The cheers were deafening and he glared at them. “I know how to end an argument diplomatically.”

The loud, harsh laughter coming from Balin and Dwalin was very unnecessary—and did Balin wipe a _tear_ from his eye?—but he said nothing more on it. Dinner was passed around and beds made. Thorin stayed up by the fire, running a shaking hand through his hair.

“You seem on edge,” Bilbo said, joining him.

“Have you not noticed? I’m _always_ on edge,” Thorin countered. Bilbo sat across from him.

“I meant more than usual. Had tonight’s conversation bothered you? I didn’t mean to call you out—”

“To be honest, no one tries to call me out on my bigotry.”

“I wouldn’t call it bigotry,” Bilbo said with a frown. “More…I think you just…love so hard and so deeply that you’re scared of loving.”

“And you privy yourself insightful to my heart?”

“No.”

“My mind then.”

“No. It’s just a guess. I’m the same way. Well, _was_ the same way…I lived alone for a reason, you see: had my heart broken a few too many times. Figured it’d be easier to just be alone. No one can hurt you if you don’t give them your love and devotion. I certainly didn’t expect to…” He trailed off, staring at the embers. “Sorry. I’ll just go to bed.”

 _Don’t let him walk away!_ “I used to believe in Ones. Most of the company doesn’t know that.”

Bilbo stared at him before settling down. “Would it be too much of me to ask what changed your mind? What made you stop believing?”

“I got my Longing young—the Longing is what we call the feeling of not being whole, loneliness. It’s a sharp, bitter, stabbing feeling. And when I say young, I mean I was fifteen years old.”

“That sounds about old enough to be getting crushes and thinking about love.”

“Perhaps for a Hobbit, but for a Dwarf, that is very young. We start maturing to adulthood around twenty-five at youngest.”

“Ah.”

“Fifteen is about…the same a five year old child of Men.” It was interesting watching the realization replace confusion on Bilbo’s face.

“That’s about six or seven for a Hobbit. We age just slightly slower than Men and live the same number of years. My grandfather is named the oldest living Hobbit we know: he died at a hundred and thirty—but as you were saying?”

Thorin nodded. “At that age, it’s hard to handle a loneliness that intense. My grandfather was my confident until he fell sick nearly ten years later. A lot say it was our gold that drove him mad and while it certainly played a part, it wasn’t just that. My grandmother had died just a little while before. He was…he wasn’t the same since. Then Smaug came and we were on the move. My mother died in the attack and there was just no time to mourn her. My grandfather and father led our people for as long as they could. In that time, I was able to ignore it. Too much to do, too much to focus on and I was grateful for it. After a while, it became easier to just…pretend it wasn’t even a real thing. I told myself that so many times that I had begun to believe it.”

“And now? Do you still believe that?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t. Maybe. Meeting you had made me question my very beliefs. Not just tonight, but since I met you, I’d been…conflicted.”

“Sorry about that. I certainly had no intention of conflicting anything or anyone.”

“I am aware you didn’t and I shouldn’t have treated you as harshly as I did, but there was that and… _other_ factors behind my judgment of you.”

Bilbo nodded. “Okay,” he said slowly. For a moment, he stared at the fire and Thorin stared at him. In the glow of the fire, his hair looked like untapped veins of gold and his skin seemed like bronze.

“Well, I’m should get some sleep,” Bilbo said, standing. “And so should you.”

“I’ll keep watch and wake someone else to relieve me later.”

“But will you actually sleep?” Bilbo asked, smirking. “You tend to stay up at night and like it or not, I’m not the only one noticing the black circles around your eyes, Thorin.”

He winked at Thorin’s stunned expression and went to the loose hay bedding. Thorin shook his head.

 _Dratted Hobbit_ , he thought fondly, smiling gently at the embers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last week's kiss was removed. Figured it was actually WAY too early for that.


	4. Chapter 4

Beorn, as Thorin’s luck would have it, was far too comfortable with Bilbo, even going as far as poking his belly and calling him “little bunny.” Thorin didn’t like the way it twisted his usually controlled emotions into something he couldn’t.

He had given his weapons to Fili for safeguarding when the wellspring of violence erupted in him the first time. At least he wouldn’t accidently kill their host.

Bilbo didn’t seem all that fond of the nickname at least, and less fond of being poked, but he certainly didn’t say no to second and third helpings. By _Mahal_ , he was on his fourth helping already! How did Hobbits eat so much?!

He was tempted to add his own coin to Nori’s betting pool on how much Bilbo could eat at one sitting. He was thinking it’d be closer to ten servings, but Nori had said someone had guessed he’d eat as many as twenty before feeling sick.

“Feeling a little green there?” Dwalin asked, smirking.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh? So you’re not snarling because our host keeps poking our Burglar? Sure you don’t want to be the one to do any poking?— _ow_!”

“Behave yourself,” Ori said as Dwalin rubbed his head, glaring at his husband.

“Thorin, pray Bilbo is nicer.”

“I’m nice,” Ori said, smiling. “But I’m also not going to let you tease your friends, no matter how tempting. The last time something like that happened, furniture was broken.”

Thorin remembered that. He and Dwalin had an argument. It ended up in a scuffle that led to breaking Ori’s writing desk. They tried to replace it before Ori returned from the library, but failed. He came home early. Dwalin didn’t sleep well for a week while trying to find the correct desk and replace the stationary. He never said it, but Thorin felt he’d been kicked out of the bedroom during that week. Dwalin remembered it to, from the way he was glaring at Thorin. As if it was _his fault_. Which it wasn’t. Not with how _he_ remembered it. Well, it was quite a while ago. He wasn’t going to bother arguing the finer details.

Bilbo just finished his fifth helping when he stretched and thanked Beorn for breakfast before heading outside. Ori grinned. “Well, I think I just won a few coins.”

“What?”

“And if someone said five?”

“I _did_ say five. It’s quite feasible. Those cakes are filling enough and Bilbo was the sort of Hobbit who could afford to eat seven meals a day.” Thorin stared at them. Seven? _Seven?_

How does he stay so little?! Wouldn’t he be rolling about otherwise? Not that he wasn’t a bit round when they met, he was quite…but the amount of meals they usually had on the road…

Well, that couldn’t have been nice and it explained why his stomach was always making complaints for him when it came to food. Now he was still a bit round, but not as round as he was when they met.

“Well they were all rather roly-poly weren’t they?” Bofur said. “At least the ones I saw were.”

“Different cultures value different things,” Ori said. “Hobbits seem to be the kind that value a bit more roundness to their bellies than others.”

Thorin leaned in his chair, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Sure he was a bit “roly-poly” when they met, but he looked healthier these days. Wouldn’t they… _different culture_ , he bit at himself, _he doesn’t value the same things Dwarves would._

Sometimes it was hard to remember that. Thorin stood and excused himself, using the excuse of needing fresh air to make sure that Bilbo was all right. He did eat a lot and when one doesn’t eat as much as they’re used to, reintroducing your usual schedule can lead to some problems.

Bilbo seemed fine, coat and waistcoat off and a needle and thread in hand.

“That coat is beyond saving,” Thorin said.

“Yes, well, it’s all I have,” Bilbo said, tugging the thread just a bit. “What else can I do but this? At least this way, it lasts just a little longer before I can scrap it.”

“Dori could probably make you something sturdier. We’re going to be here a while. With everyone’s injuries and all. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Bilbo tensed, “Something Dwarfish, no doubt.”

“Something durable,” Thorin corrected, “And warmer. It’ll be winter soon.”

“I’ll manage,” Bilbo said icily. Thorin arched a brow and let him continue sewing.

“I don’t think he’d find it a problem.”

“No, but I do.”

“Why?”

Bilbo chewed his lip. “I doubt you’d understand,” he said, gathering his things and walking away from Thorin. Thorin blinked, confused and perhaps a little bit stunned. Had they not begun to see eye to eye? Or was that just Thorin?

Perhaps he’d been too hasty. After all, this perhaps was an insecurity and even if he trusted Bilbo with his past, he wasn’t ready to talk about what got under his skin. The way Beorn prodded his belly and the way he ruffled his hair and called him “little bunny”…

He knew they weren’t ready, but it left him feeling stung nevertheless. Thorin sighed and massaged his forehead. _Give it up and give him space_ , he told himself, deciding to go take a bath.

If Bilbo didn’t want to talk, he certainly had no reason to make him.

#

Watching Fili teach Bilbo the basics of sword combat was entertaining, if nothing else. Occasionally, Kili joined in, offering a bit of advice. Watching them like this helped him remember that his nephews were, indeed, adults even though they hardly acted like it.

Then again, they had the luxury of a childhood. Thorin sometimes had to remind himself that he grew up far too fast and far too young. Still, they were good teachers when they put their minds to it. Thorin watched from the shadows, unsure why watching his nephews and Bilbo interact made his chest swell.

They weren’t courting. ( _You want to._ ) They weren’t in love. _(But you love him anyway_.) Hell, they valued different things. ( _Really? Are you sure that you know what he values? Is it not home? Don’t you value the same thing? Home?_ )

He sighed while lighting his pipe and leaned forward.

“I heard that,” Dwalin said. “That bloody sigh.”

“I was _not_ sighing.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Bofur said, Nori sitting next to him.

Thorin could understand Dwalin’s presence. But his nephews’ lovers? They tended to avoid him. Well, Bofur usually did. Nori and him had gotten used to each other since they met. Even a little comfortable with each other to the point where death threats could be thrown in the air and Nori would just laugh it off. It was a little disconcerting given that Nori could easily kill him off himself if he wanted.

“Who wouldn’t be sighing away when their One is getting sweaty?”

Thorin choked. “Damn it, Bofur!”

“He likes flowers,” Bofur continued.

“And food,” Nori said. “But flowers would be better and easier to use. More easily accessible.”

“What are you three up to?” Thorin growled.

Dwalin cleared his throat. “You’ll be thanking Ori if this works,” he said, handing Thorin a list of flowers with intricate drawings of what they’d look like. They were all accessible in the garden.

“Have fun frolicking.”

“I am _not_ doing this,” Thorin growled.

“You like Bilbo. He likes you.”

“Yes. _Like_ ,” Thorin snapped, trying to hide his blush with an indignant growl. “I’m quite sure liking someone and loving them is rather exclusive.”

Dwalin pulled him to his feet. “Go pick flowers like a Dwarf or so help me…”

“Are you commanding me to pick flowers?”

“If need be.”

“Do you need blackmail material?”

“Not really, but I would include this to my list of blackmail material.”

Thorin pressed the paper to Dwalin’s chest. “You can pick flowers for your husband’s enjoyment and I can laugh at you.”

“Just go pick the flowers for Bilbo before I kick your ass.”

“I’d rather my ass be kicked, thanks.”

“Ten gold pieces on Dwalin,” Nori said.

“You’re on,” Bofur said. Dwalin and Thorin glared at them.

“It wouldn’t kill you to go pick a fucking flower, Thorin,” Dwalin snapped.

“How do you know?” Thorin bit back. “ _How do you know_?! Any of these could be poisonous!” He waved the parchment in Dwalin’s face. Nori seized it.

“Only if ingested,” he said, “And none on this list. The only damage that will be taken is to your ego.”

“Thank you. Thorin, hundreds of males have put their ego on the line for love. You are not alone.”

“Join us,” Nori said eerily. Thorin wanted to set his hair on fire, but figured the absolute anger he’d get from Kili for that would best be avoided. Dwalin seized his shoulders and turned him around to look at Bilbo and the boys.

“You know it’s him. When you met, you felt as if something was just tugging at you, drawing you closer, aye?” He did. He doesn’t like admitting it, but he did. “I personally don’t see the appeal, but you think he’s pretty.” _Untapped veins of gold, bronze skin, eyes like mist…_

“What is your point?”

“I’m getting there,” Dwalin said. “The last few weeks up until he saved you must have been painful. Keeping him at a distance.”

“Really?” Nori asked.

“Not everyone accepts their bond right away,” Bofur said. “Remember: Fili and I used to be at each other’s throats and Dwalin and Ori were _terrible_ before they accepted their bond. I know you and Kili pretty much liked each other off the bat. And Balin’s too gentlemanly for Dori to even be able to resist.”

Thorin and Dwalin cringed. Balin? Irresistible? He wanted to vomit.

There was a scream and they looked at the trio. Fili was on his back, Bilbo’s sword pointed at his throat.

“Pity Shirefolk don’t find use in sword fighting,” Kili said. “You could be a great swordsman. You’ve certainly got the talent.”

“Really?” Bilbo asked, blinking.

“Aye,” Fili said. “Can you get off me now?”

Bilbo did so, apologizing profusely to him. Bofur left their group to check on Fili. Bilbo was shaking despite how Kili was assuring him he did well. And he did do well. He had good control. It’s when you _don’t_ have control that bad things happen.

Dwalin shook Thorin. “Go get him that bouquet. He already likes you, I’m sure he’d reciprocate if you let him know you’re willing to meet him halfway.”

“He intends to go back to the Shire after this. Let him be.”

“He’ll stay if you give him a reason to,” Dwalin said. “Just keep that in mind, Thorin.” He walked toward the group, bellowing pointers at Bilbo, who nodded vigorously.

Thorin looked at the list again.  _I’m losing my mind_ , he decided, walking back toward the house. He paused, looking at some of the flower beds. With a sigh, he checked the list.  _Definitely losing my head_ , he thought, carefully clipping a white rose from its bush. No one would fault him if he left it on Bilbo’s things, would they?


	5. Chapter 5

Perhaps he shouldn’t have gone with a single rose.

Too bold.

And perhaps too presumptuous.

The amount of snickering being done by the others behind his back did not help either. Thorin lay on his stomach, grumbling about Dwalin and his law-nephews-to-be to Oin as he looked over his back.

Not that Oin paid any attention. He probably couldn’t hear him. Thorin sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Why was the Hobbit effecting him so much? Oin let up, assuring him that he was healing nicely and that his back would have some scarring, but it would just be added to the collection of scars he already had.

Oin called Bilbo over, insisting he remove his shirt. Neither of them paid attention to Thorin’s presence. Thorin watched, biting his lip and Bilbo’s shirt bunched up as he pulled it over his head. His back was splotched with brown and yellow bruises.

“Is it causing you more trouble than necessary lad?”

“Not really,” Bilbo said. “I feel stiff still, but it’s not as bad as it was earlier.”

“Tell the boys to lighten up on you,” Oin said. “No need to set back your healing with their horse-play.”

Bilbo nodded, tensing as Oin dug his thumb against the bruise. “I’ll do that,” he ground out. “Could you not poke like that? It hurts!”

“Have you been to the spring?”

“Yes. Twice daily like you said,” Bilbo said. Thorin left, tying his hair out of his face and heading outside. Beorn was chopping wood.

“Not following Bunny around?”

“He’s _not_ a rabbit,” Thorin snapped. “And no. I don’t follow him around.” Beorn arched a brow at him and Thorin met his glare. “What of it, anyway? You don’t know him as well as we do.”

“And you think you do?”

Thorin bristled. “I know him better than you, at least.”

“Then you know that white roses are a declaration far too bold this early in a courtship,” Beorn said. Thorin did not wince. Sure his eye might have twitched, but he did not wince. “You should have started with a sunflower.”

Thorin glanced at the sunflowers. Large stemmed, brown eyed, yellow petals. They didn’t seem so elegant. “What do you gain from helping me?”

“I am not helping you,” Beorn said. “But someone has to stop you from making a fool of yourself. A white rose symbolizes purity, marriage, and unity. Sunflowers have a subtler meaning: adoration. It’s a better starting place than roses in general, if you think about it.” Thorin grumbled that that might be true, staring at the flowers that rose past his own head. “Either way, you’re quite over your head.”

Thorin might not like the bear-man much, but he couldn’t say he didn’t agree. He was in over his head and nothing could convince him otherwise. “Perhaps I should try something I know won’t embarrass me, then,” Thorin muttered. “Have you a forge.”

“I’m quite sure he’ isn’t going to appreciate armor or weapons.”

Thorin decided not to grace that with a response. He could figure this out…

_Oh, forget it._

He strode away, wanting to bash his head in. Even if he loved Bilbo, it wasn’t likely that Bilbo would love him in return. It was foolish to dream that he could…

 _He wouldn’t love me_ , Thorin thought. _Not after all I put him through. Earlier maybe he did, but he likely changed his mind…_

Thorin went to the glen that had become a temporary training ground. Dwalin was there, training, and Ori was sitting on the porch with his ledger propped on his legs, glancing every so often at his husband. Neither of them noticed him and Thorin moved on.

He was bored. He was annoyed. He was—

“Thorin are you okay?” Bilbo asked. Thorin looked at him. “You seem grouchier than usual.”

“I’m not grouchy.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Bilbo said. “I was about to go find something to eat for lunch. Would you like to join me?” Thorin stared at him. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to…well, actually, Kili’s been ill lately. He didn’t want me to tell anyone, but I think you should know.”

“Ill how?”

Bilbo bit his lip. “Well, it looks like it’s just a stomach bug to me, but he refuses to see Oin…you’re grouchier now.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“I don’t know. Recently, maybe? I just caught him chucking up breakfast this morning. He said he’d see Oin later, but it doesn’t seem like he even bothered to go speak with him, you get my meaning?”

Thorin did. “Thank you for telling me. Does Nori know?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but he doesn’t seem much concerned.” Then he likely didn’t know. “I hope I didn’t do anything wrong. I am sworn to secrecy, after all.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Thorin said. “I’m glad you told me. And now we need to find Nori.” He hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was. And _if_ it was what he thought it was, he was going to _kill_ Nori.

“Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

“Probably,” Thorin said. He paused and turned to Bilbo. “Remember our conversation about Ones earlier?” Bilbo nodded. “And how we said having heirs is not an issue with male partners?” He nodded again. “This is why. Kili is male, but he is also capable of bearing children. Such Dwarves are called Bearers. It is a unique trait that allows our kind to populate normally since the male to female ratio is rather…unbalanced. Out of every three Dwarrow you meet, one will be female. And out of every six male Dwarrow, one will be able to bear a child.”

Bilbo shook his head, blinking. “You don’t actually think that Kili is _pregnant_ , do you? That’s just absurd!”

Thorin grit his teeth.

Such words were the reason they kept secrets. Bilbo would never understand and for what reason should he try to understand?

“Believe what you will, I am not lying about this. If you need more evidence, then come with me and see for yourself. Or talk to Ori and Dori if you like. Their family has always been blessed with bearers and dames alike.”

Bilbo followed as Thorin hunted Kili and Nori down. He found them together. Kili’s eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. He had laid his head on Nori’s shoulder. Nori spotted them and stood, standing between Thorin and Kili. Kili glanced at Bilbo.

“You told him?”

“I was worried,” Bilbo said. “Besides, he has this strange idea that you might be pregnant, but that can’t be true. Right?”

No response. Kili bit his lip and Nori didn’t move from between them.

“I’m glad he told me,” Thorin said. “Or were you intending to pretend that it was just a stomach bug to keep us from guessing that you’re with child?”

“I don’t even _know_ if I am,” Kili said. “And if I am, then you’ll just leave me behind.”

“Not alone,” Thorin said, glaring at Nori, who glared back. “Go to Oin. Now. Find out if this is, in fact, what we think it is.”

“But will I be left behind? While the rest of my family goes off?”

“ _Not alone_ ,” Thorin said. “Your husband will stay behind as well if that is what is decided.”

“Thorin—”

“Kili, the timing is bad. That is all,” Thorin said.

“Madness,” Bilbo mumbled. “Men don’t get pregnant. It’s madness.”

Thorin ignored him. Kili bowed his head. “I don’t want to be left behind.”

“Oin will be the judge of that,” Thorin said. “My decision will be entirely based on his word. I would be glad if you both could continue the journey, but we will see. Go see Oin.”

“Now?!”

“Yes, Kili, _now_ ,” Thorin snapped.

Kili bowed his head and stood, a hand clasped over his stomach. “Nori?”

“I’ll be there in a moment, _Sankhajima_ ,” he said. Kili nodded and went to the room Oin had made into a small hospital so to check on them with some measure of privacy. Nori stepped closer. “Don’t make him stay behind.”

“I will do what I deem is best for my family,” Thorin growled. “If that means the two of you stay behind, then so be it. I will not risk this quest for the sake of one Dwarf. Not even my kin. When you’re a father, you’ll understand—I _know_ I am not his father,” Thorin said, cutting Nori’s growl off. “But I am the closest thing to a father he has and I will _not_ put him and your child at risk.”

Nori didn’t deflate, but he stepped back, bowed stiffly, and went after Kili.

Thorin turned to Bilbo. He looked very confused. “You really think that…that Kili’s…”

“Pregnant?” Thorin asked. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility,” he said. “Believe that we are… _unique_ or not, that is yours to decide, but I will not have you think of us as oddities for it.”

“Odd? No—well, it is strange, but your opinion of me must be sour indeed, if you think this would change how I treat Kili! A baby is a blessing, always. I admit I don’t understand, but if it’s true, then I would like to try and understand if nothing else. Maybe one day it won’t be so shocking for me…so can you…are you like Kili or…”

“No. I am not a bearer,” Thorin said. “Kili and Fili are my heir-sons, begotten by my late sister. Or is that _also_ unnatural.”

Bilbo tensed. “Thorin, I admit I’m quite ignorant when it comes to your people and your secrets, but do not think that what I say in ignorance is in any way meant to _insult_ you! Do you think so little of others that you can’t bring yourself to give us the benefit of the doubt?”

“Benefit of the doubt?! Do you know why we are so secretive? Men, Elves, Hobbits—you see something different from you and you fight it, treat it like a disease.”

“You’ve not met very good people then, if that’s what you think,” Bilbo said. “I want to understand, do you get that? I am _not_ trying to push you into a corner, but you always seem to be looking for a reason to bare your fangs at me for reasons that have nothing to do with me _personally_. I don’t understand Dwarves and being around you all is giving me little bits of insight. But for other things, like male pregnancies, I need more time to wrap my head around that. That’s all.” He crossed his arms, glaring at him. “But I suppose you’re too busy biting my head off to even see that.”

Bilbo strode away, leaving Thorin standing there, feeling like an idiot and a fool, chest feeling all too tight and also as if something had hooked around his ribcage on both sides of him and pulled him apart. The pain he was feeling was excruciating enough to make him want to cry…pointless as it would be.


	6. Chapter 6

“You’re an idiot,” Dwalin said.

Thorin turned his head toward him, cheek pressed to the wooden table rather than banging his forehead against it. “How astute of you,” Thorin muttered. “I did not know that.”

Dwalin finished his mug. “Suck up your pride and apologize to him.”

“Did you do that for Ori?”

“No. Why deny him the glory of telling me off?” Dwalin poured more ale in his mug. “Had to save his arse from my former subordinates, got hurt in the process, and while he was patching me up, he gave me a piece of his mind.” He finished his drink and leaned back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“You’re going to tell me to make an ass out of myself.”

“You don’t need me to. You’re doing that on your own just fine.” Thorin wondered how many times he could glare at someone before finally setting on fire. “Has he mentioned the flower?”

“No. The bear-man thinks I was too bold.”

“Hell if I know,” Dwalin said. “Maybe you should try…never mind. Bad idea.”

“What?”

“It’s a bad idea. Forget it.”

“Just tell me, damn it.”

Dwalin rubbed the back of his neck. “I was going to suggest you cook…”

“That is a bad idea.”

“Well, at least you’re not denying that Bilbo’s your One.”

“I’m not even admitting to that,” Thorin snarled, sitting up. “But neither am I denying that I find him rather…pleasing.”

“Pleasing?”

“Brave. Honest. Kind…Sassier than I’m used to and in such a way that it borders insubordination.” He slumped back down, hoping to avoid Dwalin noticing the rising blush to his cheeks. “Fairly handsome for a Half— _Hobbit_ , too. I suppose.”

Dwalin’s eyebrow lifted. “So you’re not willing to call him your One, but you’re admitting that you find him attractive.”

“Yes, well…what do you want me to do?”

“Does he complete you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Any feelings of gnawing pain when he’s angry at you? Or when you deliberately push him away or do you feel like nothing can weight you down?”

“Bit of both, actually…how did you—”

“Yeah. He’s your One.”

Kili stormed over to them. “I hate you,” he snarled at Thorin before storming off.

“What was that about?” Dwalin asked, brow furrowed. Kili had not been that furious with Thorin since he had suitors lining up trying to marry him. (And when Nori pretended to be a noble so he could trick Thorin into letting him marry Kili anyway. The length some Dwarves went to for their Ones…)

“I think I’ll find out in just a moment,” Thorin said as Oin approached them.

“Kili’s got a bun in the oven,” he announced. In the doorway, Kili winced and sent Oin a scathing glance before fleeing. “It’s still early, though. My guess is since Rivendell at the latest, probably since before we set out if not.”

Thorin winced. Certainly through the tunnels, maybe the Trolls. The stress alone would be too much! “He’ll want to continue on.”

Oin sighed. “Given the nature of our quest, it would be irresponsible for him to continue going with us. Especially since we’ll be going through the forest. If we can appeal to the Elves, it’d be easier, they would be kinder if they knew one of us was bearing.”

Thorin agreed. It would be easier.

But appealing to Thranduil…the very thought made him ill. Thranduil, the coward and traitor, who saw himself as superior and yet was as lowly as his grandfather had been the day he was not given his due. Thorin shook his head.

“I would not trust the word of Thranduil for anything. It is worthless. I cannot either trust him with the well being of my nephew, let alone the child he bears. Do you truly think the forest would do him no good?” Oin nodded.

“It’s poisoned. Ill. Going in there would be hazardous enough even _without_ a pregnant Dwarf. Nori will stay behind, likely.”

True. After the lengths he went through just to _be_ with Kili, he wasn’t likely going to walk through a forest that may or may not kill them without him and _especially_ not with a baby growing in Kili’s belly. Thorin massaged his forehead. At least here, Kili would have access to a stress free environment and plenty of food for him and his child.

Thorin stood, wondering who he would need to talk to first: Gandalf? Beorn? Kili? Or perhaps Balin?

 _Kili_ , he thought. _Definitely have to take care of that first._

He found him near the gate, a cat curled up in his lap and a dog beside him. Thorin sat on his other side. “You know there is nothing that you can do that will make me not proud of you, right?” he asked. Kili didn’t look up, scratching the cat’s ears. “This is a good thing, you know.”

“I won’t be able to go to Erebor, won’t I?”

“Oin thinks the journey would be too stressful for the baby. I’ve seen too many miscarriages in my time over less stressful events. You won’t be alone with Beorn. Nori will stay. I can’t speak for your brother, but two of you have not been separable yet and while I would like one of you to continue onward with the rest of the company, I know it’s unlikely at this point.”

Kili nodded, biting his lip. “Does everyone know?”

“Oin, me, Dwalin, Bilbo, and Nori are the only ones who know as of yet. Telling the others is your decision and it would be wise to do.”

“I guess so. They’ll know I’m not a coward at least.”

“You have never been a coward, Kili. You’re not about to be any time soon. Having a baby doesn’t change that. Every baby is a blessing and I cannot be happier for you. I am not making you stay behind out of cruelty.”

“I know,” Kili said, allowing himself to be embraced. “I’m sorry about earlier. I knew you were going to make me stay behind, regardless what Oin thought. It was just a matter of _where_.”

“It could be worse,” Thorin said. “You could have to stay with Elves.” Kili nodded. That would be worse than the bear-man. “I would rather you tell the others sooner rather than later. Especially with that dratted old man.”

“Gandalf?”

“Yes.” He had the feeling that the wizard would find Kili’s pregnancy advantageous in a way, but Thorin would be _damned_ if he let the wizard use Kili’s child for whatever forsaken purpose he can think of. True, some may think his opinion of Gandalf was low, and truth be told…

It was.

“Pay it no mind,” he said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Kili nodded and pushed the cat off his lap, getting a cry of protest and a glare from the furry beast. “Can I talk to Nori about this first?”

“Yes, go find your husband, tell him to expect me to hunt him down and tear him a new one. If your adad didn’t get away with it…”

Kili rolled his eyes and fled back inside. Thorin shook his head and the cat looked at him. He glared at it and received a glare back before the beast hopped into his lap.

Thorin sighed. _Mahal spare me…_ He sneezed.

#

The news of Kili’s pregnancy was far better received than Thorin expected. Bombur and Dori were handing out advice to him for free and the look on his face listening to them was worth the fun. Nori was puffed up, grinning ear to ear. Seemed the fears of what would happen next had disappeared.

He knew they hadn’t. The euphoria that came with finding one was pregnant was high. Even Gandalf was offering his congratulations before heading outside to smoke. Thorin followed him.

“Kili agreed to stay here. I do not like the forest and I do not trust Thranduil.”

“He would not be so cruel as to hurt Kili or his child.”

“Regardless, I do not trust him. He will work to delay us if he knew.”

“You will lose more than just Kili.”

“I am well aware. Nori will stay behind. He is the child’s sire, after all.”

“And Fili?”

“I have yet to know what he will do,” Thorin said. “I would like Fili to continue on, but I know he will stay. Since Kili’s birth, they’d never been separated. Why would they separate now?”

“And yourself?” Gandalf asked. “Would you stay?”

“No,” Thorin said. “Whatever your reasons are, Erebor is my home and I will take it back if I can. Kili’s pregnancy is not a setback. I will take it as a blessing. If we succeed, a child of Durin’s line will be the first babe born in Erebor after the Sacking.”

Gandalf hummed and blew out a wisp of smoke shaped like a hummingbird. It flitted about for a few moments then dispersed. “And if you have need of an archer?”

Thorin arched a brow. “I admit the bow is not my weapon of choice, but who do you think taught Kili how to wield it? Bofur might actually stay as well, now that I think about it.”

“So our numbers drop to ten,” Gandalf said. “At least.”

“Yes,” Thorin said. “You can’t complain about lucky numbers now.”

“Well…I hardly think I _complained_.”

“Gandalf. You complained.” Bilbo stepped out, stretching. Thorin followed him with his eyes, unaware he was watched.

“It is said that the course of true love never did run smooth,” Gandalf said. Thorin tensed. “Go talk to him. Bilbo is quite fond of you, in his own way.”

Thorin frowned at him. He stood. “Not a _word_ to the others.”

“Of course not. No need for your ego to deflate further.” Thorin followed Bilbo to the bee hive. He never did like bees. Despite being a warrior, Thorin never did have a high pain tolerance. Oh, he could handle being a warg’s chew toy, getting slashed and stabbed at, and so on, but a bee sting?

He sucked in a breath.

“Master Baggins.”

Bilbo turned to him and Thorin bowed his head. “I am sorry for my outburst earlier today. I know you were only curious and, as is my nature, I tend to get defensive. Especially where my kin are concerned.”

He nodded. “I see. Apology accepted…how’s your ego?”

“It was left on that cliff after I became that Warg’s squeaky toy, even if I have been trying to keep a semblance of still having it.”

“Is my saving you so deep a blow?”

“No,” Thorin said. “More my ego’s nasty, gaping hole is my doing and my doing alone.” Bilbo smiled. “Is my damaged ego that pleasing to you?”

“Well, it was a very big ego. It’s a miracle you managed to fit through my door. In all honesty, I’d be the same if my people had this ability for males to get pregnant, even if it is rare. We’re quite fertile as it is. You might have noticed…either way, I am happy for Kili. Apart from the quest and all, you must be excited.” Thorin sat on a log.

“To be honest, I’m still reeling from the shock of it. It’s not surprising, Kili’s marriage was bound to produce more heirs. His sons will be heirs to the throne. Fili can’t bear and neither can Bofur, so, there’s that. Give me a few days, at most, and I’ll probably not be able to shut up about it.”

Bilbo approached, a bee on his shoulder. “So your nephews are your heirs and Fili’s nephews will be his?” Thorin nodded.

“I’m sure there will be a feast later to celebrate. After that, we’ll have to figure out who will continue on…”

“I will,” Bilbo said. “I said I would. I’m not going back on my promise now. Unless you decide to give up the quest.”

“No,” Thorin said. “I’m not giving up. I can’t. I’ve failed my people enough.”

“Failed? That’s not what I hear when I talk to them. You may not be _great_ , Thorin, but no one is. Not really. Mistakes are made, but you established a colony, made agreements. I know that, through Fili, the Shire and your people are now allies—yes, I know that was Fili. You think he would be the Dwarf he is if not for your guidance? You’re a good king and everyone, but you, sees that. That baffles me. If anyone can take back Erebor, it’s you. I am glad to be a part of it.” Bilbo cleared his throat. “I should get back inside. I promised to help Bombur make that feast you mentioned.”

He strode by him and Thorin grabbed his wrist, halting him, and pressed his mouth to Bilbo’s. After a moment of stunned silence, Bilbo returned the kiss, free hand, cupping Thorin’s cheek. Thorin didn’t know if Ones existed, but the perpetual emptiness that he never managed to fill…it was gone. The pain he felt earlier whenever he pushed Bilbo away…gone.

Bilbo broke the kiss, smiling at him. “Well, um…glad this has been resolved,” he said. “I still have to go help Bombur.”

“Right.” Thorin let him go, leaning against a tree, feeling floaty.

That couldn’t be right. Was it?


	7. Chapter 7

As he has predicted, Fili had decided to stay behind, as had Bofur. Gandalf did not look that pleased with the change of events.

There was a question to whether either Bofur or Nori knew how to care for a pregnant Dwarf, which led to a debate over whether Oin would be more needed here or with the company. That is until Bilbo cleared his throat.

“I know it’s likely not the same, but my mother was a healer,” he said. “And midwife, though I certainly wasn’t allowed to sit in on those…but she taught me a few things about healing. I can make poultices and healing teas. I also know how to stitch wounds if the need comes and we’ve thread and a needle. And a fire.”

“Why a fire?” Gloin asked.

“Well, specifically a candle would be better, but it’s for the needle. When stitching up a person needed to be done, she always insisted on hot water and a needle to be heated. Said it was why most of her patients usually survived more than others. She learned these tricks while travelling in Rivendell and with the Rangers who guard the Shire.”

“And hot water?” Oin asked.

“Cleaned away the dirt and blood a lot better,” Bilbo said, “Most of her patients, when not women, were farmers who got into a bit of an accident and needed proper healing.”

“Well, we do need Bilbo,” Bombur said around a honey cake.

There was a mumble of agreements to this and Bilbo fidgeted in his seat, looking very much like he just wanted to run.

For a moment, he looked at Thorin and in the brief moment that their eyes met, he smiled briefly before averting his gaze to his nails and picking dirt from underneath them.

“Oin will stay with Kili,” Thorin decided, “Once he has assessed that Bilbo can act as a suitable replacement.”

He glanced at Gandalf, who, while looking quite sour at the way things had developed, gave a slight nod. Thorin turned to Beorn.

“If you would permit us a little more time, it would be most appreciated.” Beorn blinked. “You’re on a schedule, are you not? I do not mind hosting your kin longer, but I can permit two more days.”

Thorin turned to Oin.”

“I’d need only one to quiz Bilbo,” he said. “The other day could be used to say goodbyes.”

Thorin didn’t dwell on that. He wasn’t a fool, but he was optimistic. He would see this through. He would live. He insisted on it. Still, realistically, he would need to make sure that his nephews knew there was a chance he would not return.

In such a case, Fili would have to do what he deemed appropriate.

This left him with seven Dwarves and a Hobbit. Somehow, this didn’t seem all that much…more hopeful. He took comfort in that his nephews would be safe, if nothing else…them and their lovers. That would be enough.

It would be enough.

#

“It’s not the same as my own methods,” Oin said. “But Bilbo’s skills are better than nothing. His amad knew what she was doing.”

“Amad?” Bilbo asked.

“Mother,” Thorin said. Balin slapped the back of his head before walking off. True, outsiders weren’t actually allowed to know Khuzdul. Still, one word would _not_ hurt anyone. Besides, if anyone had the right to say Bilbo could learn Khuzdul, was it not Thorin? “We don’t actually teach our language. We guard it as if it were sacred,” he explained.

“But as king, couldn’t you override that?”

“First I would have to formally declare you Dwarf-Friend and that I give you express permission to learn. It means I trust you with our traditions and our secrets.”

“So it would make me an honorary Dwarf,” Bilbo concluded.

“Yes,” Thorin said.

“But knowing about Ones and bearers…”

“As I said, I consider Ones to be a myth and you were bound to find out about bearers eventually everyone here is married in some way or other.

“Is it acceptable, then? To let your child-bearing folk come?”

“So long as they have no children in need of rearing, yes,” Thorin said, sitting beside him. “Gloin’s son is in his sixties, still too young to go on this quest, but old enough to take care of himself. Still, it was easier to have him stay behind with his mother. And Bombur has quite the litter. He’s a bearer as is his wife. She chose to stay behind with the children while Bombur came with us.”

Bilbo hummed, scratching his chin. “So…two non-bearers can marry and two bearers can marry…to be frank, I kind of wish it would be more like that! My people tend to not want anything to do with those like myself. A ‘confirmed bachelor,’ you see.”

“I take it there’s a deeper meaning to that than I know of?”

Bilbo nodded. “It merely means I’m the sort who prefers males to females. It’s expected of me to live alone and while I can entertain lovers, I can’t actually be open about it. It’s easier to accept two lads or two lasses to be open about their relationship than it is for two adults.” To Thorin, it seemed nothing short of cruel. It must have shown on his face because Bilbo smiled. “It’s just how things are for my people, I suppose. If we were anything like Dwarves before, we’ll never know. Our ancestors mated with Men before, you see, which is why we’re so much like them in certain ways. This would be one of them, I suppose.”

“It doesn’t make it right,” Thorin said.

“No,” Bilbo agreed. “It doesn’t.”

“Oi! Bilbo! Lunch!” Bofur called. Bilbo glared at him.

“Don’t go eating everything!” he demanded. “I’ll be there momentarily!” He turned back to Thorin. “Will you join me?”

“I’m actually having a private lunch with my nephews in a bit,” he said. Bilbo nodded.

“You act all touch and gruff but you’re actually rather close to them, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am! If not for the small factor that they’re my sister’s children, it’d be an easy thing to claim them as my sons instead given the trouble they’ve put me through over the years. Kili especially.”

“Yes…to be honest, I think people do think they’re your sons. Kili especially.” He stood. “Well, when you’re done with your family time, come find me. I’ve still some pipe weed left and I’d be glad to share what I’ve got with you.”

“I’d like that.” Bilbo beamed and he walked off. Gandalf cleared his throat and Thorin glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Gandalf said, “just unexpected.”

Rather than relieve Thorin, it angered him more. “Tell me what is on your mind, Old Man, before I knock it out of you.”

Gandalf tsked and leaned on his staff. “I’d say out of the two of you, Bilbo’s having a bit more luck in the courting department. But that’s just my opinion. Now if you excuse me, there’s cranberry salad that I’d like to try.”

Thorin wrinkled his nose at the idea of salad as Gandalf strode past him.

Cranberry salad? Who would eat something like that?! He glanced at the table to see Bilbo eating the leaves with gusto, little red berries decorating his plate.

_Courting…_

Thorin’s face felt warm and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts rolling about in his head.

How did Hobbits court? Apparently with pipe weed. Food, maybe. Flowers too.

He tried the flowers and it all but blew up in his face.

_Too bold._

He wanted to hit his head against a wall until sense returned, but if his nephews and Balin were to be believed, he never did have much sense to begin with. He stood and went outside to find his nephews.

They had erected a sort of net to keep the bees away from the spread on the blanket. He joined them sitting between the two of them.

“This looks good,” he said. “Bombur?”

“Aye,” Fili said, passing him the bread. “We don’t have any meats, though.”

Of course they didn’t. Why would they in this house.

“Will that be all right with you two?” he asked. “You are thinking of staying.”

“I can live with it,” Kili said.

“Same,” Fili said.

Well there’s that. Thorin took a bread roll and bit into it, grateful for the silence that followed as they ate, even slightly fond as food was tossed from one brother to the other.

A part of him hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he’d eat with them, but another part of him knew it very well might be. He wasn’t going to waste it with telling them to behave and not throw food about.

Once the plates were clean, Thorin cleared his throat and the boys turned to him.

“I don’t know what will happen next,” he said. “And I need you two to be aware that there is a chance I might not return. If we succeed in taking the mountain, I will send word to you.”

“If not?” Fili asked. Kili was silent, his hand absentmindedly went to his stomach.

“If not, assume the worst has happened and we did not succeed,” Thorin said. “From there, whatever course you take is yours and yours alone. You will be king, if that is the case.”

Fili nodded. “I understand. You think I’m ready?”

“Fili, you lead our people for a short time before your accident, whatever it was, and you did well. I don’t expect it to happen again, but I can assure you that you are more ready than you give yourself credit for. And you, Kili,” he turned to him. “You’re young, but I know you’ll be a good parent. I admit, I had hoped you’d be a little older when you and Nori had children. Regardless, I am proud of you. I’m proud of both of you." Kili lowered his eye, frowning and Fili nodded. Thorin gripped their shoulders and pulled them into a hug. “I love you both, _dashshut nan’ithê_.”

“You’re not going to die, Uncle,” Kili said, laying his head on Thorin’s shoulder. “You survived this long.”

Thorin squeezed his shoulder. “It’s never a guarantee that I’ll come home, Kili. But I promise I will do my best. I promise you both.”

If Thorin held them a little longer than necessary, who could blame him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~  
> Dashshut nan’ithê=my sister’s sons 
> 
> Now using Dwarrow Scholar’s English to Khuzdul dictionary, so words are different now, as you can see…it’s annoying. TT.TT
> 
> Yeah, this chapter ended up being a little sadder than I meant it to be...oh well.


	8. Chapter 8

Thorin found Bilbo lounging on one of the rocks near the spring Beorn suggested using as a bath. Steam rose from it, making Bilbo’s hair on his feet curl and fuzz. “Master Baggins,” he called. Bilbo turned to him. “I take it your lunch was enjoyable?”

“More enjoyable than you might have found it. Dwalin and Ori wouldn’t touch the salad despite their brothers’ urgings. It was entertaining to watch.”

Thorin laughed. “They might not look it, but they are a well-made match.”

Bilbo slid off his rock and stretched. “I take it your own meal had been pleasant as well?”

“For the most part,” he said.

There had actually been some tears on Kili’s part, which he blamed on his hormones. Thorin didn’t mind. Dis had been unexpectedly tearful both times she was pregnant as well and comforting his nephews had never felt like much of a task.

“But it was still a goodbye. The rest of the time should be spent with the company. Kili should be with Bombur. He’s the only one of the bearers we have here that actually has born children so far. And Oin, now that I think about it…”

Well, at least you know they’ll be safe from whatever comes next, right?” Bilbo asked. “It _is_ a dangerous journey we’re on.”

“Aye, but even if I could stop them from coming, I wouldn’t. They’re adults, even if they don’t act like it sometimes. I owe it to them to at least treat them like adults who know what they’re doing. Even if they don’t,” he said, shrugging at that last part.

As smart and brave as his nephews were, they still lacked experience, which only time and opportunity can give. Bilbo nodded, arms crossed. “My pipe weed’s over here,” he said. “Sadly most of my things were lost in the goblin tunnels, but then again I think that’s the case for everyone, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but we’ll make due however we can.”

“Seems like we’ll just be getting a whole lot more misery.” Bilbo knelt by a small bag and pulled out a pouch and pipe. Thorin handed him his own pipe, letting Bilbo fill it before leaning against the rock, one leg splayed out and the other propped up to use as a rest for his elbow.

“That entirely depends on our attitudes, I believe,” Thorin said. “So long as we can keep our spirits up, we should be fine.”

“You do realize that without packs, we are without cloaks, blankets, food.”

“You’re quite the pessimist, Master Baggins,” Thorin said, lighting his pipe. Bilbo sat beside him.

“Actually, I’m a realist, Master Oakenshield. Misery is merely guaranteed, you see. Food eventually runs out if we aren’t careful enough. And with lack of food means lack of energy, which leads to lack of good cheer. Have you even given thought to what will happen when we take the mountain? Considering we _manage_ to do so?”

“At the moment, I’ve been hoping the dragon had died in its sleep,” Thorin admitted sheepishly. “Though I’m sure we’ll find a way to kill it if it lives. For now, how about we focus on getting to the mountain in one piece?”

Bilbo blew a smoke ring out and rubbed the back of his neck. “You are an optimist _and_ an opportunist. Dreadful combination, if I do say so myself. However am I going to keep you alive, let alone the others?”

“As thankful as I am for your interference on the mountainside,” Thorin said, grinning at him. “I _can_ look after my own life.”

Bilbo waved his hand in a so-so motion. “As can I,” he said. “It didn’t stop me from nearly losing my grip on the mountainside. And I would have thanked you for that sooner if you were not being so pigheaded.”

“I have erred against you many times.”

“Indeed you have. But I think I’ve proven myself to be far my resilient than you think. Agreed?”

Thorin released the smoke, “You have proven yourself many times over. Except I’ve not the wit to see it till you had jumped between me and Azog. Stupid thing to do, really.”

“Well, not much stupider than running at him in the first place. Especially when he was on Warg-back. Don’t you think?”

Well, they were sleep deprived and hadn’t eaten. In retrospect, Thorin might have not been entirely aware of what he was doing. “I see now how my, er, charge had not been as well thought out as it ought to have been.”

Bilbo nodded. “I think everyone wasn’t thinking properly then…not that any of us knew it, of course.”

“Naturally.”

“So with that in mind, I hope we manage to keep our wits about us.”

“I second that hope,” Thorin said, grinning at him. Bilbo blew another smoke ring. “If I could change anything, I wouldn’t send you into the mountain.”

“Good to know,” Bilbo said. “But it isn’t a matter of whether or not I want to. It’s what I was hired to do and do it I shall. Though, while we are here, we might as well discuss exactly what it is you want me to venture into a dragon’s den for? What am I stealing, Thorin.”

Thorin blew out more smoke. “The Arkenstone. If the dragon lives, we cannot hope to defeat it alone. I had tried to muster the armies of the seven Dwarf Lords, but they all turned me away because I do not have it in my possession. With the stone, they will answer the call and recognize me as a proper king.”

 Bilbo hummed.

“Right now, if Smaug were to use it—which I doubt he would. To him, it’s just another piece of his hoard—my people would have no choice but to answer his call.”

“That is silly. It’s just a stone. How can a rock be made supreme?”

“The rock was unearthed near the end of my grandfather’s rule. It was such a unique stone that he made it sacred; took it to mean that Mahal, Aulë in your tongue, had blessed his house and through him, his kin. We’ve never seen a gem of its like before, you see. Hence the idea that it was somehow blessed. But after that, he started to go mad. He was old, you see, so to be honest, I don’t know if it was the stone or just his age, but our people suffered because of it. My father tried his best…I was too young to really understand what actually was going on and still don’t understand it entirely. It is true there is a history of madness in my family, but it never hits us till we are past middle age.”

“And you are…”

“I don’t look it, Master Baggins, but I am nearly two centuries in age. The madness might come on me at any time even if I do not have it.”

“But if you do and we don’t defeat the dragon, you could call for an army to take Smaug down.”

“Exactly. And after that, I will nullify its sacred standing. Many Dwarves will see that as sacrilege, but my people managed without it, or any ring of power, for generations. I know we do not need it. I know _I_ do not need it. I am not the best king my people have had, but I have done what I can. In his prime, my grandfather was better at this than I. He was wise, once.”

“I have said it once, and I will say it again: you _are_ a good king, Thorin. You had a difficult reign and you took the throne young, aye? Sometimes our best is enough. To swear fealty to a rock is, well, its idiocy. If you do not need it, do not seek it. As I have proven myself on this quest, you have proven yourself to your people ten times—no, _twenty times_ over. I am sure of that.”

Thorin stared at him. One or not, he could admit he was lost to Bilbo Baggins. Hopelessly and completely falling in love with him if not already in love with him. He looked away. “I wish I had your confidence in me, Bilbo. It would at least make things easier.”

“Well, most of what I know of your reign pales in comparison to what the company knows about you. Keep that in mind. I’m just a fresh pair of eyes, clear and unbiased.”

“There’s more to you than that,” Thorin said. Bilbo blinked and shrugged.

“Back in the Shire, I inherited land from my father. Most of my work was collecting rent, managing wineries, and paying my workers. I had more free time than you think. I spent it reading and writing when I could. My father was a writer of children’s books and my mother taught me a few cooking tips apart from poultices and the like. Consider me a jack of all trades. Professional burglar will have be added to my list of skills eventually, but so far I’ve not exactly been doing that right, either.”

“I’d avoid using the word ‘burglar,’” Thorin said, his grin back, “Rather, I’d put down something like ‘procurer of rare objects.’ Sounds more legal than sketchy.” Bilbo threw his head back and laughed. “And yourself? Do you write as well?”

“I actually continued with my father’s children’s tales, though, admittedly, mine have a rather darker turn than his. That would be the Took in me, I think.”

“So…you’re a lord, a scribe, and a merchant.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use those terms, but I suppose if that makes things easier for you understand me, you could say that. And add prince to the lot. I fear it’d be too difficult to explain that the Thain of the Shire is not quite the same as a king though it is very, _very_ close.”

Thorin was staring again. “You’re a prince?!”

“The current Thain is an uncle of mine, before him it was my grandfather—my mother’s father.”

“So in some ways, we are in fact equals.”

“Perhaps in your way of things, but the Shire functions quite differently, I suppose I’m the equivalent to a prince and a lord of sorts, but to call oneself that is considered quite arrogant in the Shire. I’m just Master Baggins there. Or I was.”

“Coming with them has stained your honor?”

“Not my honor, no. Honor is valued differently among my people. An honorable Hobbit is an honest one and being honest and having integrity is merely a small part of the package. I’ve not lost that. My respectability is valued far more than my honor and _that_ is what I have given up. In essence, in coming on this venture, I’ve sacrificed my very reputation. To be frank, though, I’m glad I did. I never did have friends who understood me quite so well as the Company.”

Thorin frowned at that. Bilbo seemed amiable enough. “Your preference in partner?” he asked. “Or was it something else?”

“I think it was just me in general, though my ‘preferences’ certainly didn’t help. I was never proper enough for my Baggins relatives and they were always quite rude in their own way to my mother behind my father’s back.”

“Your father didn’t know?”

“Oh, he did, and he protected us both as much as he could.”

“I am sorry.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault but theirs,” Bilbo said. “Despite what people think, my father was more stubborn than you think. He even dared to leave the Shire with my mother to prove it. Think on that.” He grinned. “After they returned, he started to build Bag End for her.”

“Is that normal?”

“Building a house? Not particularly. Showing that you are willing to try something new, well…it’s usually done in cooking rather than in adventuring. And it’s not as though they went as far as I have. Rivendell is as far as they ever went east. Supposedly they stopped traveling because of me.”

Thorin arched a brow.

“They wanted to raise me in a stable home,” he said, as though he could tell what Thorin was thinking. “There was talk about traveling again when I came of age, but then my father died when I was a tween. Mother died after my thirty-fourth birthday. After that, there was just too much responsibility. I couldn’t just abandon everything…at least I thought I couldn’t.”

“Now what happens for you?”

“I don’t know,” Bilbo said, shrugging. “Maybe I’ll go back. Maybe I’ll stay. I do miss the Shire, but at the same time, I’m not sure if it was what my parents wanted for me now that I’m here. This quest…it’s changed me in ways I never thought I could change.”

Their pipes had long gone out and the sun was beginning to set. Bilbo stood and dumped the ash onto the ground. “I should go help Bombur with tonight’s meal. And maybe convince him to help me make extra food for our packs. Just in case, you know.”

“Aye. Bilbo.”

“Yes?” He stared at Thorin, who stood. He wanted to kiss him again, to taste him again. Instead, he bowed his head.

“Whatever you may choose, you are welcome to my halls, be it in Erebor or Belegost. I hope you would consider it your home if things don’t work out for you back in the Shire.”

Bilbo beamed at him. “Thank you. It would be nice to have another place to be welcomed to. I liked Rivendell, but it’s more a place for old folk to retire to, don’t you think?”

“And my halls would not be relaxing?”

“Fili and Kili,” is all Bilbo said before heading back inside. Thorin laughed. Those were two very good points. Though he was quite certain that his nephews would calm down one day. After all, Kili was married and soon to be a father. He couldn’t continue to be reckless.

Bilbo turned back around. “Bofur and Nori, while we’re at it,” he added. “And Gloin and Dwalin, I suppose. The older folk at least are calm.”

“Oh, so I’m calm to you?”

“Well, no, not really. That’s like saying Dwalin’s calm and we _both_ know that the calm one is Ori in that relationship. Though I take it he can be a bit of a spitfire when he wants.”

Thorin nodded. That was true. “I see you’ve plenty of examples for why living with Dwarves is not as relaxing as it would be with Elves. Still, I’d rather retire in the Shire.”

“Good luck with that,” Bilbo said. “You’ll become higher strung than you already are. At least in Rivendell you don’t have nosy neighbors poking their noses where they don’t belong. I’ll see you at dinner, Thorin.” Now he left and Thorin crossed his arms, frowning at himself.

He was doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting next week, this story updates on Mondays


	9. Chapter 9

Even with the extra food, they ran out of things to eat far too soon after entering Mirkwood. Bombur fell in a lake and that made everyone far crankier. When he woke, well, they had to convince him that it had been months since they left Ered Luin. And the reminder of the lack of food made him just as cranky as the rest of them.

Bilbo and Thorin had taken to avoiding each other at risk of biting each other’s heads off. They would do it too, if things continued the way they were. And then, as if to make it worse, they were captured by spiders just as Thorin was caught by Elves.

The last thing he heard before he was surrounded by Elves was Bilbo, barely audible, like a whisper in the back of his mind.

_I’ll find you. Wherever you go, I will find you._

After that, he didn’t know what became of his companions…

#

“Thorin.” He groaned, burying his head into the pillow. “Thorin, wake up,” the whispering voice hissed.

“I’m awake. You’re just annoying.”

“Well that’s rude,” the voice—BIlbo!—said. Thorin moved closer, but still he did not see Bilbo. “I’ve been looking for you for weeks now. Everyone’s worried about you. You know.”

Thorin gripped at the bars. “It is not so dark that I should not be able to see you.”

“Oh, funny little thing I found in the goblin tunnels,” Bilbo said. “It’s nothing to worry about. Though I’m loth to tell Gandalf. I’m afraid he’ll warn me against it. Whenever we wanted him to do magic for us, he did warn us that he wouldn’t do more than fireworks because—”

“Magic always comes at a price. Aye. I know it. And it is true. All magic comes at a price in its own right.”

“It’s just a ring,” Bilbo said. “What sort of price would it demand me? Besides, it’s hard to use it sparingly when you’re trying to remain undetected.”

Thorin scoffed. “All I can ask then is that you be careful.”

“I will do my best, promise,” Bilbo said. “I’m sorry, but I’m not here to free you. I’m still working on that. I would hate to leave anyone behind. Especially you.”

Thorin felt the cool touch of Bilbo’s hand against his cheek. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” Bilbo admitted. “But it’s not unbearable. I’ve been colder before.” Thorin wondered, but chose not to ask. If they managed this, there’d be plenty of time to get out. Thorin took his hand and kissed it, trying to warm them. Bilbo chuckled. “I apologize if my hands make you a bit uncomfortable.”

“I’ve been more uncomfortable. Your hands are not as bad as you think.”

“My feet might be though.” Thorin shrugged. He could live with that. “Regardless, I am glad you here. I don’t think a cell would suit you.” Bilbo scoffed. “A cell wouldn’t suit anyone, you know,” Bilbo said. “But you only have to suffer through this a little while longer. I’m still working on a plan, but working on it I am!”

Thorin kissed his hand again. “I love you,” he confessed.

“And I love you,” Bilbo said. “And now that that is settled, I have to go. I’ll be back later.” His hand slipped out of Thorin’s grasp and Thorin moved back toward the bed.

It was foolish, falling in love now. And yet…yet what other choice was there? They might die here, they might die when they get to the mountain, or (if they’re lucky) they’ll die as old men, together. What point was there in holding back when they have already declared how they felt for each other?

If the guards noticed that Thorin was smiling in his sleep, they made no comment.

#

Bilbo had been lost among the waves and Thorin scrambled from his barrel, screaming his name. The others were swimming to shore, Dwalin pulling a half-drowned Ori to shore. His hands scraped over the rocks and wood as he kicked himself out.

He found Bilbo, still clinging to a barrel, scratched at the cheeks and coughing. “Why didn’t you get into one?”

“You want to try climbing into a barrel while rushing down a raging river when all you can really do is hold on for dear life?” Bilbo asked, glaring at him. Thorin sighed and helped him to shore. “Now what? We get to the dragon?”

“I’m afraid that’s easier said than done,” Balin said. “A lake lies between us and the mountain. Crossing it would be easier with a boat. Which we do not have and, as glad as we are to be out of the Elven King’s realm, I do not think we want to keep using the barrels as a mode of transportation.”

Bilbo clicked his tongue and glanced at Thorin, who shook his head. It wasn’t likely they’d be able to do anything at this moment…

The sound of a bow twanging caught everyone’s attention, a bow had embedded itself in a log held in Dwalin’s hand. He stood between a Man and Ori, so it wasn’t hard to figure out what might have just happened. The bowman turned his bow on the others.

“Who are you?” he demanded, “And why are you here?”

Balin cleared his throat. “That barge over there wouldn’t happen to be yours, is it?” Balin asked.

#

“I don’t care what he’s doing for us,” Dwalin growled. “I don’t like him.” Ori patted his shoulder as comfortingly as he could.

“You don’t have to like him,” Balin said. “We just have to pay him.”

“Balin—”

“Don’t start, Dwalin,” Balin said. “Uh…we’re a bit short.”

Thorin arched a brow and turned to Gloin, who crossed his arms, scowling. “Gloin,” he said. Gloin looked at him and glared at him. “Come on.”

“Absolutely not!” Gloin snapped. “I have been bled dry on this venture! What have I seen for it thus far—”

“Is that Erebor?” Bilbo asked. The Dwarves gathered around him as Gloin shoved the last of his coin purse at Balin. Bilbo nudged Thorin’s elbow. “How does it feel to be home again?” he asked, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I’ll tell you when I know,” Thorin said, smiling

“Give me the money now,” Bard demanded. Thorin glared at him.

“We’ll pay you after and not a moment before.”

“If you value your lives you’ll do as I say,” he said. The Dwarves glared at him. Dwalin was growling. “There are guards ahead at the toll bridge. If I’m to get you inside safely, you need to get around them. Please, just trust me. I know what I’m doing.” Thorin nodded at them, glaring at Bard for a moment longer before they climbed into the barrels. The fish piling on top of them was unexpected and after this, Thorin knew he would be swearing off fish for ages to come.

#

Getting caught had not been part of the plan, but it ended up being for the better as the Master was a greedier sort of Man than most.

It was easy to gain his favor through promises of riches, an oath Bilbo told him he should keep. Not for the sake of the master but for the sake of the people living in Laketown. It would be a wise move to make, if not for the threat of the dragon that Bard reminded them of.

As if anyone could really forget.

Either way, after a day or two of feasting, the Master sent them to the Desolation, decked in new weapons and armor.

“I don’t think we should have made deals with that man,” Bilbo said.

“You and me both,” Dwalin added.

“It matters not,” Thorin said. “We did what we must and we are better for it, are we not?”

Bilbo frowned. “So you won’t keep your promise?”

“I do not know yet. Were it just for the people, I think so, but there are a number of factors that need to be considered. Whether there is truly as much gold as we believe in the mountain is one of them. That and I have to look after my own people first.”

Still Bilbo did not stop glaring at him. “Do what you think is best, but you made a promise, Thorin. You really should keep it unless you want to make an enemy of people who will be living right outside your doors. I would rather not make enemies of the Men and Elves, if you get my meaning.”

He moved to the other end of the boat and leaned against the rail, staring at the water. Thorin sighed and approached him.

“You don’t seem to understand that I’m angry at your right now.”

“No, I get that. What I don’t understand is why. They’re Men.”

“And I am a Hobbit,” Bilbo said. “I am not one of you either.”

“You’re different.”

“No, Thorin. I’m not. I’m not different from them and you know that. Do not think that just because you say you love me makes anything you do right in my eyes. This is not right. You lied to them, Thorin. I understand that you must look to your people first. I do, but they need your help to. You cannot dangle it at them as if they were a hungry animal and you were dangling a carrot in front of them on a string.”

“I have no intention of doing so, but we must approach this wisely. I will give them aid.”

“Swear it?” Bilbo asked, fixing a glare on him.

“I swear it,” Thorin said, wrapping his arms around Bilbo, but also ready to back away if Bilbo did not want his affection. “You at least understand my reasons, do you not?”

Bilbo nodded. He turned his head and kissed him.

In the distance, Erebor stood ominous and strong, but not the image of glory it had been. Here, it was an image of darkness and doom.

Thorin squeezed Bilbo lightly.

How long would it be till they must enter the dragon’s hoard?

_How long can I hold onto him?_


	10. Chapter 10

“We can go no further tonight,” Thorin declared. “Gloin, get a fire going. Bombur, get dinner started when you can. Everyone else set up camp. Bilbo.”

Bilbo turned to him. His face was hard to see in this light, though his outline was steadily becoming easier to make out.

“I’d like a word with you for a moment.”

Bilbo approached. “What is it?”

Thorin lead him away from the group. “Are you still cross?”

“About your promise to the lake-men? A bit, but I suppose you do need to put your people first.”

“I do, but I was not jesting about the size of the hoard we will find. I do not know about economics in the Shire, but among Dwarves and men, too much gold could crash a nation entirely. It would be wiser to allow a steady stream of gold from the mountain to the lake-men, but in moderation. Enough to help them overcome poverty, then rebuild Dale. Just because there is enough to do what I have claimed, that does not mean that it would be wise to suddenly send out the amount I promised, especially since there are already thirteen claims to that gold. Is that understood?”

“I think so,” Bilbo said. “I don’t think they’ll like that very much, though.”

“Perhaps not, but they are peasants and even a peasant can understand that too much gold can damage their way of living,” Thorin said. “I would hope they gain the bravery and sense to overcome such a greedy ruler. I have seen what greed does first hand and it is…it’s not pleasant. It’s a bane on the hearts of Men and Dwarves alike.”

“Thorin, you won’t become your grandfather,” Bilbo said, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “If you do, I will do whatever I can to help you break out of it, even at the cost of my life.”

“I’m not worth that.”

“What do you mean? You’re worth it to me! You know, I know you don’t believe in Ones or true love, and to be honest, I sort of had my doubts about it, too, my whole life…especially after my parents died, but still. Meeting you has definitely challenged me in ways I had not thought I’d ever be challenged in. You know, it’s gold that’d been held captive by a dragon for several decades now.”

“Aye,” Thorin said. “It might be cursed. All the more reason for you not to put your life on the line for my sake.”

“I believe that is my choice to make,” Bilbo said. “I love you, Thorin, and if you are cursed, then I will do whatever I can to break it.”

“Another thing Gandalf told you?”

“I’m sure he also told you this to: all curses can be broken no matter how powerful.”

“With True Love, aye,” Thorin said. “Pity it doesn’t exist.”

“You know, I’m not so sure of that anymore. How can you still be sure of it?” Bilbo asked. “If you do get cursed, how about we consider it an experiment of sorts? To see if it does exist.”

Thorin arched a brow and the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. “Is that a wager, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo let go of his hand, stuffing his hands in his pockets and swaying on the balls of his feet. “Perhaps it is. I’d put my share on it. No need to put yours. If the hoard’s as big as you say it is, I doubt I can carry it all back to the Shire nor would I have much need for it. So it doesn’t really matter to me whether I keep it or not.”

Thorin chuckled. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try, but Bilbo, if this be my last sane wish, heed it: don’t put your life on the line for me. If I do snap out of the madness somehow, and that is considering I am susceptible to it, I don’t want you to put yourself in danger for my sake—especially if the danger is me,” he cupped Bilbo’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together. “If I were to come to my senses, I do not think I would be able to forgive myself if I had hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Bilbo said. Thorin couldn’t understand the faith Bilbo had put in him. It made no sense. “But as enlightening as this talk has been, Thorin, I’m quite sure that we need to get rid of Smaug first.”

“Perhaps we should just turn around—”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Bilbo said, grabbing his braids and yanking them. “You uprooted me from my rather comfortable life to steal from a dragon. We were almost eaten by trolls, killed by orcs and spiders, staged a prison escape from Elves, and now stand here at the foot of the mountain. We’re not going anywhere. I didn’t come all this way just to give up in the end. I will face Smaug and I’ll do my best to survive. Now that that is settled, I’d like to eat dinner before Bombur takes it all.”

Bilbo stepped back, breaking contact between them and heading back to the camp.

The fire crackled and sparked, casting shadows on every face. The orange glow made the hair on Bilbo’s head glimmer as he took a bowl from Bombur. Thorin took his last, praying to Mahal that, after the dragon, nothing bad would happen.

Not to Bilbo, nor to his company.

#

At dawn, they searched for the entrance and began their ascent up the mountain, once they were certain they found it, they watched and waited. At last, the sun began its descent and glinting from between the mountains to the west, the light hit the keyhole. Thorin shoved the key inside and turned it, hearing the gears within shift and turn. He pushed against it and peace washed over him. He was home.

“So is there anything I should especially keep an eye out for?” Bilbo asked, expertly crashing everyone back to reality.

Successfully entering the mountain does not a conquer make.

Balin cleared his throat and said, “The Arkenstone.” Bilbo looked at Thorin, who nodded grimly. “I think I remember the way,” Balin said. “I’ll take you as far down as I can, lad, but after that, may Mahal be with you.”

Bilbo nodded. Thorin took his hand. “Be careful.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bilbo promised, grinning in a way that, perhaps, was meant to comfort him but instead it made Thorin’s stomach churn with the desire to seize Bilbo around the waist and run back to Beorn’s where he and his family can reside till…

Well…

Till when?

But before he could act on said desire, Bilbo and Balin had already left the company. Thorin sucked in a breath.

“Prop the door open and stay outside. We don’t want Smaug catching our scent if it can be helped.” They filed out of the door and took to sitting or pacing.

As for Thorin, he kept his back to the door, praying for strength.

#

“What have we done?” Bilbo whispered as Smaug made his way toward Laketown. The bells tolled in the distance and then there was a burst of flames rising from the lake.

“Those poor souls,” Balin mumbled.

“That’s it?!” Bilbo shouted, startling them. “That’s all you can say? _Those poor souls?!_ Their deaths are on us!” Thorin took his shoulder, shaking his head.

“There is nothing we can do,” he said, “The dragon did not need to go after them. He could have killed us and left them be. As it is, thinking their deaths are on you is exactly what he wants you to think, Bilbo. I will not hold their deaths on my head, and neither should you.”

“But _I_ woke him.”

“We don’t know that,” Thorin said. “He could have woken on his own. _Ghivasha_ ,” he cupped Bilbo’s cheek. “We will find a way to stop him now, but—”

“It’s dead! Smaug’s dead!” Gloin shouted and they approached the ledge, watching the sun begin to rise with an eastern wind blowing in their faces and the lake rippled.

Still Laketown burned and smoke rose from the ashes.

“Get back to the mountain,” Thorin said. “And make preparations.”

“Will nine strong even be able to get places ready in time for survivors?” Bilbo asked. Thorin paused, looking back at the lake.

“It would be best to be ready for attack. If they want peace, we will let them in, but I do not think that will be the case.” Bilbo frowned and Thorin ran his hand through his hair. Damn Hobbit! How can he be so wise and yet so _ignorant_ of the ways of the world?! Nothing was ever simply solved by tattling on your enemy’s mother!

He took Bilbo’s shoulders. “Please, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

“If I don’t agree, I’ll let you know. But letting them inside as a measure of goodwill…”

“Will not stop those who wish us _ill_ from attacking,” Thorin said. “I would rather we be cautious before we open our doors to the men. We play our cards safely or not at all.”

Bilbo nodded. “It is your mountain now. Do with it what you will. Just don’t expect me _not_ to slap the back of your head if you do something stupid.”

Thorin smiled. “That is if you can reach it.”

Bilbo’s glare was quite defiant and he stood on his toes, managing to yank on Thorin’s earlobe.

He smirked. “I think I can reach just fine, thank you.”

#

Beorn stared in the darkness, snarling. The door slid open and he spun around. It was the bearing Dwarf. “Bofur finished making food if you’re hungry.”

“No. I do not care for whatever it is Dwarves cook,” he growled, fixing the youth with wild eyes. “And as an expecting mother—”

“I’m _male_ ,” he said. “And trust me, I’m not going to be doing anything stupid any time soon. So, what is it? What do you see?”

Beorn chuckled, he liked this little Dwarf. “It is not what I see, but what I smell. It rises over the forest and fouls the air. It smells like Dragon’s blood. The water running from the town of Men on the other side will be undrinkable now if what I think has happened is fact.”

“But you know nothing about what might have happened to our companions? My uncle?”

Beorn shook his head. “Let those who do not have a cub in their bellies fret.”

“How am I _not_ to fret?!”

“Kili,” a second Dwarf—the one Beorn called the bearing Dwarf’s mate—stepped outside. “Come back inside, _Sankhajima_. There’s a chill out tonight.”

“Or you could come out with me. I needed the fresh air.”

“Not so fresh anymore,” Beorn said. “Stay here. My servants will protect you. You want to know how your companions fair? I will go to the mountain and see for myself.”

With that, he changed into a great bear and bounded for the forest.


	11. Chapter 11

Once the wall was built, the company went into the treasury. Thorin took a breath and stepped into the hall. He could feel its call, like an itch deep in his skin or a craving he could not quench.

“Bilbo?” he turned to him. “Did you find the Arkenstone?”

Bilbo bowed his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. Thorin arched a brow at him. “I haven’t found it,” Bilbo repeated. “There’s too much treasure, Thorin. It’ll be found eventually. I’m sure of that.”

“Finding it—”

“It does not weigh on your worth as a king,” Bilbo said, approaching him. “You don’t need it.” Thorin glanced at the treasury. “How about we go upstairs, yeah? I’m sure there’s something of more value in your old rooms.”

“Like what?”

“Uh, well, I wouldn’t know. Things of sentimental value mean more than this.”

“And what would you know of gold’s value to things that rot?” Thorin barked.

Bilbo stopped. His eyes hardened and a frown pulled at his lips. Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have it your way, then,” Bilbo snapped.

He turned around and left the treasury. Thorin almost followed, but even if he did, what would be the point. He looked at the company. “Everyone take a section and start digging. If you find the Arkenstone, bring it to me.”

They gave him apprehensive looks. He didn’t understand why they’d hesitate. But one by one, they went into the treasury and started to dig.

#

Bilbo turned the stone over his hand.

_I am almost tempted to let you take it. Watch it destroy him and drive him mad…_

He bit his lip. Already something was happening to Thorin, he felt it since they arrived at the mountain. Oh, he still seemed clearheaded and all, but he might be right about the economics of it, but something felt really, really off now.

Perhaps it wasn’t the gold.

Perhaps it was just that his culture was different and therefore things of value were weighed by the memories behind them rather than what it could buy…somehow Bilbo felt that didn’t matter much in terms of culture.

Bilbo sighed and put it back in his pocket.

“What are you doing up here?”

Bilbo looked up at Thorin, startled. Did he see the stone? He didn’t seem angry or hurt, so Bilbo guessed not. Still it was too close for comfort.

“Needed to clear my head,” he said. Thorin sat opposite him. “Where are the others? In the treasury still?”

“I have them looking for the stone.”

“Do you want me to join them?”

“You may if you wish, but what I _want_ is to talk to you.” Thorin took his hands. “I am sorry I snapped at you, Ghivashuh.” He kissed Bilbo’s hands. “I love you, Bilbo, and if I had frightened you just now, that was not my intent. I know you think I don’t need it.”

“You don’t. Thorin,” Bilbo cupped Thorin’s jaw. “You don’t need it. You did just fine without it. I know it wasn’t the grandeur your grandfather had made, but it wasn’t a bad life either and the dragon’s dead, so why do you even need it still?”

He watched Thorin think. He watched that brow furrow and he watched his eyes cloud over and his mouth pull into a frown.

“I don’t know. It’s always been a symbol of my people and I think that has been enough reason for me to seek it even if there was no dragon.”

“But you have done fine _without_ it,” Bilbo said. “Smaug’s dead. Why have the other Dwarf Lords at your beck and call? Did they care when you lost it? Did any of them help?” Thorin shook his head. So they did not. Bilbo stroked his beard and watched his eyes close, nuzzling into his palm. “Their loyalty was not real, Thorin. I think you know that. So forget about the stone, okay? If it’s in there,” Bilbo swallowed. “If it’s there, it’ll turn up eventually.”

“It is in there. Buried under the gold,” Thorin said. “I’m not thinking clearly, am I?”

Bilbo bit his lip and blinked back tears. “Just a little. You aren’t too far gone. How-how about this: think about restoring the mountain and Dale. Hmm? How about that? If you ever find you’re not thinking clearly, I’ll…I’ll help you. Okay, I’ll help you.”

Thorin nodded, kissing Bilbo’s wrist.

“It’s been a long night. I’ll tell everyone to stop what they are doing and we’ll all go to bed. We need the sleep.” Thorin nodded again and Bilbo stood. He kissed Thorin’s forehead.

“It’ll be all right,” he promised.

 _I swear to you it will be_.

#

It was as though Bilbo’s presence kept him grounded in reality. On Thorin’s part it was an attempt at staying away from the treasury, but when his mind wandered, he’d find himself there, knee deep in gold coins and struggling to get his feet back above the gold.

Sometimes he would need to physically be pulled out of the treasury and taken away. He even had himself locked in his old room at one point, but when the Elves arrived, that became less of an option.

Even if he was losing his mind, he had enough clarity to know Thranduil was wrong. And so was Bard. He would expect Bard, normally a sensible Man from what Thorin gathered, to know that what he asked for was still too much and would damage Laketown’s economy more than it already was.

“Why not bargain with Thranduil?” Bilbo suggested. “Why not give him what it is he wants?”

“If he wants his gems, he may have them,” Thorin said, “when he pries them from my dead hands.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?!” Bilbo shouted. “Thorin!”

He paused and covered his face. Everything felt foggy. When he lowered them, Bilbo was in front of him. “There is no need. Give Thranduil what he is due and he will leave. There is no need for war. He does not ask for what is yours.”

“He brought an _army_ , Bilbo.”

“I’m not saying your demand that they leave is unreasonable. I think it’s in very poor taste that they lay siege on us like this knowing we only count to nine.” He sucked in a breath. “I will go and handle negotiations.”

“No.”

“Do we have another choice?” Bilbo asked. “There are angry, starving refugees in Dale and a host of Elves outside. Someone must go barter with them and you aren’t in any state to do so. I handled disputes like this back in the Shire all the time, Thorin. At least let me try. I won’t go alone.”

“Bilbo, I am _not_ letting you go down there! If I dare, I risk losing you.”

“I can do this, Thorin, and I can protect myself. Send Balin or Dwalin or any one of the others with me if you are so unsure of this idea, but you’ve trusted me this much. Trust me a little more, please.”

Thorin shook his head. “It is not you I do not trust, it is them.”

“I know, I don’t trust them either. I am certain it is this gold, but still! I don’t…we need food, Thorin. We can’t live off cram and eventually even _that_ will run out. Let me speak with them.”

Thorin ground his teeth. “You don’t leave the mountain. There’s a small hole in the wall down there.”

Bilbo nodded and approached the rail.

“Hail Bard, Hail Thranduil,” he shouted. Thorin crossed his arms and watched. “Perhaps we struck a wrong accord,” Bilbo said. “I am sure, Lord Thranduil, that an army is a bit much, don’t you think? We number nine, so truly do you think it is necessary to trap us like a cat at a mouse hole?”

“Within the mountain are gems of mine and I would have them back!”

“No doubt, and I’m sure your gems will be returned _as soon as_ you send your army home. As we number nine, surely you needed only a pair of advisors and no weapons. As far as Lord Thorin and I are concerned, you have wronged us greatly, though I do understand your reason for trying to keep us from the mountain. You do not need an army here. Prove to us you have a measure of good will toward us and your gems will be returned. Tis a small price, is it not? After all, we are _not_ the enemy you should concern yourself with. I’m quite sure there are still spiders in your forest, are there not? Why not use your good sense and turn your army toward them instead?”

“You mock me!”

“No, my lord. Never. I do not mock you,” Bilbo said. “Only point out that there are real enemies to you and yours and it is _not_ us.”

Balin cleared his throat. “Impressive, isn’t he? Thranduil looks like he’s considering it.”

“He is?”

“Oh, the lad’s a diplomat. Never seen the likes of it myself. I know I’m good. I’m not _that_ good.”

“Lord Bard, a portion of gold was promised, but I must say, what you ask is too much. Enough to restore Dale before winter, new clothes, and food will be provided, but a twelfth of the treasure would be _far_ more than you need.”

“We were promised enough to rebuild Erebor several times over.”

“And have it you shall, but we all know that gold, especially dragon’s gold, can be tricky on the mind. Even now, our good king…well, why else would I offer to barter with you in his place? I am an outsider, and therefore my opinion lacks bias. I beseech you, Lord, two or three chests of gold should be enough to get you and your people through the winter.”

There was silence.

“I am sure we can have trade again as well. Nothing grows here or in the Greenwood anymore, so believe me we are very hard pressed for food. Tell me, how is the lake now that a dragon lies in it? As a Hobbit, I know a trick or two about cleansing water and growing things. I think we can all benefit and if permitted, I can write my kin in the Shire, convince them to open trade with the Greenwood, Dale, _and_ Erebor. But first, I ask that you trust me if not Thorin.”

“And why should we?” Thranduil said. “Who have you—beside Dwarves—to vouch for you?”

“Gandalf was among our company,” Bilbo said. “Would the wizard not be enough to vouch my word? I have vouched for Thorin in Laketown and will do so again. He values my word and so here I am, speaking on his behalf. You have tried reasoning, not that I would call what you’re doing here ‘reasoning,’ all seems quite shady to me.”

“He is mad, is he not?”

“No, he is not mad, though he struggles with it. It is a Dragon’s hoard still and may remain so for a long while still. I do not know if Gandalf can do something about it, but either way: those are my offers to you, my lord, and I will not be moved. I give you till morning tomorrow to make your decision. We will meet here after first breakfast—that is, eight o’clock in the morning. That is all, gentlemen. Good day.”

He stepped back.

“That was something to see,” Balin said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Elf that confused or a Man that shame-faced,” Ori said, grinning.

Bilbo laughed and looked at Thorin. “Will that do?”

“It will,” Thorin said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Bilbo said. “We aren’t out of the woods yet.”


	12. Chapter 12

_It is ours and ours alone…_

_I will not part with a single coin. Not one piece of it…_

Thorin shot up, gasping and tearing at this throat as if hands were wrapped around it. Bilbo seized his wrists.

“It’s okay, Thorin. You’re safe. You’re okay.” He cupped Thorin’s cheek with his hand and Thorin nuzzled it. “Do you want to talk about it?” Thorin shook his head. Bilbo pressed their foreheads together. “Tell me if you want or not, but I will be here, I promise.”

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.”

Bilbo shook his head. “You could never hurt me. Not if you’re in your right mind and you are stronger than you think, Thorin. You’re doing just fine. I’m safe. You’re safe.”

“My nephews? Where are—”

“They’re still at Beorn’s, Thorin. Goodness! That must have been some dream if you don’t remember what happened to your nephews. I’m sure that when we see Kili again he’ll have a nice round belly.”

Thorin relaxed, pressing his forehead against Bilbo’s chest. It was a nightmare. They were preparing for battle. He had lost his mind to the gold and he saw Bilbo as part of his treasure. He thought Bilbo was his and he would not…

His fingers grasped Bilbo’s nightshirt. He was here. He was alive. He was safe. Bilbo stroked his hair and back as they laid down again. Thorin wrapped his arms around him tightly and sighed.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Bilbo sighed. “You won’t, Thorin.” He kissed his forehead. “You won’t.”

On the mantle, the fixed clock chimed six and Bilbo crawled out of bed, kissing Thorin’s hands.

“Come on.”

“You’re the one with an eight o’clock meeting. Not me.”

“And yet, it would be best if you were still present anyway, don’t you think?”

Thorin hummed stretching his limbs and watched Bilbo walk into the bathing room. He sighed and buried his face in the pillow. He wanted so much to just lie in bed with Bilbo and never leave. He never had the luxury before and now…well, he still didn’t have it.

That would come later.

He turned his head to the other side and he caught a glint of light peeping out from Bilbo’s cloak. He climbed out of bed and approached it.

The Arkenstone gleamed in front of him and he sat on the bed with it in his hand. It was as beautiful as he remembered it.

Beautiful and foul in one.

He could guess Bilbo lied to him, but why?

He should be angry. He should be furious. He should be confronting Bilbo, and it was there, the anger, but it only simmered.

“Thorin?” He turned to Bilbo and held the stone up. He could see Bilbo pale. “I can explain.”

“I hope so,” Thorin said. “This, Master Burglar, is the King’s Jewel.”

“Hang what it is,” Bilbo said. “Let go of it! It’s been with Smaug, Thorin! He said—”

“So he poisoned you against me?”

“No, Thorin, I am not against you.”

_He stole it._

_He kept it from you._

_He lied to you._

_What else did he lie about?_

“Thorin,” Bilbo sat beside him, pulling his gaze away from the stone. “Look at me. If your angry, I’ll understand, but I stand by what I said: you _don’t need it._ ”

_More lies._

“You do not need it to be a good king. Think on what happened to your grandfather after the stone was found.” Thorin set it down and the voice, the poison in the back of his mind, silenced.

“I understand,” he said. “I am not happy that you kept it from me, but I understand. I really do.” He embraced Bilbo. “Keep it. Just until there’s someplace better for it.”

“I can do that,” he said. “I’ll put it somewhere no one will look for it.” Bilbo kissed him. “Go wash up and I’ll make breakfast before we have to go.”

Thorin nodded and pushed the stone into Bilbo’s hands. As he washed, he pounded the wall. He couldn’t do this. It was going to get harder and harder to resist now that he knew where it was. He didn’t want to become his grandfather. He didn’t want to be a shell of who he used to be. Thorin pressed his forehead to the wall and wept.

He’d felt fear before, but this…He hated feeling so helpless in the face of something he was slowly beginning to realize, he could not fight it for much longer.

#

“I see that you have not moved your army,” Bilbo said. “Is that your answer, Thranduil of the Greenwood?”

“Your words are fine and pretty, but we will leave once what is mine is returned. If not, we will march on Erebor.”

“I told you that we are not enemies,” Bilbo said. “But you seem determined to make enemies of us nevertheless. You sit on your elk and call the king of Erebor mad and yet I have offered a perfectly good bargain. Your army leaves, then you get what you desire. And you, Bard, do you stand with him?”

There is silence. Thorin turned to Dwalin.

“Where are the ravens? I need one. If we are to fight, we’ll need reinforcements.”

“A raven will be sent to Dain,” he said, patting his shoulder. Dwalin left.

“I do not,” Bard said at last. “I accept the bargain you have struck with me and will honor it. I see no reason to reject Erebor’s goodwill if it’s will be good.”

“Then perhaps you can do me a solid and smack the back of that Elf’s head,” Bilbo said. Thorin stared at him. “He seems to need it.” The Dwarves laughed.

“Bilbo Baggins, consider it good your parents are not here to mourn your sudden lack of manners!” The laughter died and Thorin approached the balcony and looked down; between Bard and Thranduil stood Gandalf. “I asked Thranduil to stay. Thorin, you must send word to your kin if you can. An army of Orcs led by Azog the Defiler approaches Erebor as we speak!”

A raven flew off into the distance and Dwalin stood by his side.

Gandalf looked at him over the brim of his hat. “And what strange things could happen with a Hobbit bartering on the behalf of Dwarfen kings.”

“Strange? No,” Thorin said. “Bilbo is loyal. I trust his judgement and, at the moment, mine is compromised. You are late, wizard.”

“A rarity, I promise. But as it stands, you still ought to have waited till I came! Leave the mountain, Thorin son of Thrain. We still have time to talk of how we will meet Azog in battle. When peace is in the land again, I will see to the gold’s curse. In the meantime, there are more pressing matters to attend to.”

“I will not make peace or ally myself beyond what my consort deems appropriate. The Elves have done nothing, they have no honor, why would I trust them to face an army of Orcs, when from a dragon they tuck tail and run?”

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, taking his arm in his hand. Thorin turned to him and bit his lip. “Not everyone faces their fears the same way. You meet it head on, not everyone is like that.”

“They betrayed my people—”

“I know that. I’m not saying you should forgive him. I’m not saying that at all. But it is not wise to turn a potential ally away like that. If Azog is coming with an army, then we must face them.”

Thorin sighed. “I know.” He looked at Gandalf. “In the event that the Elves did not leave, we sent word to Dain. Let us hope his arrival is quick. Only when he arrives will we discuss how to deal with Azog.”

“And if there is no Orc army?” Thranduil asked.

“Then you will honor the proposal my consort has laid before you. You will send your army home and we will send Dain’s back to the Iron Hills. We will have open trade. Beyond that, I want _nothing_ to do with you. It is a fair proposal, is it not?”

“At least when Bilbo’s not feeling haughty,” Balin mumbled. Bilbo snorted.

“I suppose I did go a little far.”

“You _suppose_?”

“Everyone gets a little angry.”

“That was not angry,” Thorin said. “I’ve seen you angry. That was annoyed.” Bilbo shrugged.

#

Beorn halted on the other edge of Mirkwood, sniffing the ground and growling.

Orcs were marching to the mountain. He could smell them. He could smell the Wargs. He lifted his head and bellowed, sending a missive to the Eagles.

If they were amenable, they could turn the tide of the battle.


	13. Chapter 13

“I want you to stay inside when the battle begins,” Thorin said.

Bilbo shot him a glower and Thorin sighed. “

Please? I will have enough to worry about without you being on the battle field.”

“How many times had I saved your life again?” Bilbo asked, arching a brow at Thorin. “Did I not get us out more than one tight spot or was I only remotely useful on the quest in getting us out of Mirkwood? Last I checked, not only had I done that, I saved us all from trolls, saved your hairy ass from Azog…yeah, my count’s three, so far. Probably more, if I’m missing anything. Feel free to tell me if I am. Either way, I think I have more than proven that I can fight and defend myself, Thorin Oakenshield. If one of us is to stay behind—”

“Bilbo, this isn’t some skirmish or ambush. This is a battle that may very well turn into a war,” Thorin said. Bilbo crossed his arms. “If you go out there, I am terrified that you might…”

“Thorin,” Bilbo took his hands in his. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t I have a right to fight by your side? I know I’m not a warrior, but you seem to think that I am unable to defend myself when I have done just that time and time again on this journey. And I don’t want to risk losing you so we fight together or not at all. I love you. Do you understand? I’m not letting you fight in battle alone—and yes, I know you won’t actually be alone. You know what I mean.”

Thorin pressed his forehead to his. “Come with me.”

He led Bilbo to the treasury. It’s enchantment called to him, but Bilbo’s hand in his was an anchor he so desperately needed. He didn’t have to look long, and he let go of Bilbo’s hand for a brief moment, kneeling in the gold and pulling free the shirt. He handed it to Bilbo.

“If you insist on going to war, this will suit you better than our usual armor.”

Bilbo took it in his hands. “What is this?”

“A mithril shirt,” Thorin said. “Mithril, or silver steel, is the strongest metal known to my people, and so very rare. It is used in both ceremony and war due to how strong it is. Dori can make you some proper armor, made of leather, this will protect your torso from attack and I pray it will be enough.”

“What about yourself?”

Thorin shrugged. “I have fought in battles before. I know how to deflect a blow. As such as it will protect you, I hope you will accept it as the first gift of many.”

“I do not need gifts to know you love me.”

“My people will expect it.”

Bilbo sighed. “I won’t be getting out of that, will I?”

“No,” Thorin said and the start of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You will not.”

“Then I hope you have a bottomless stomach. If you insist on courting me in a Dwarfish fashion, you best be prepared for a Hobbit one.”

Thorin beamed. “I think I can survive whatever it is you’ll throw my way.”

With the shirt draped over the crook of his arm, Bilbo took Thorin’s hand back.

“We should really get out of the treasury. Not to say I’m not glad it’s not getting to you, but the more time spent here the more I worry…”

“It’s always getting to me, I just have a good reason to ignore it.”

“Now you’re being unnecessarily sappy,” Bilbo said.

“How is it sappy if it’s true?”

“I believe something can be both.”

Bilbo kissed his cheek.

#

Dain’s reaction to Bilbo’s presence was a mix of neutrality and confusion. He bowed his head and looked away when Thorin introduced Bilbo as his partner.

As it was, Thorin didn’t know what his cousin thought of Bilbo. There wasn’t any time for him to gage Dain’s response to Bilbo since, as soon as he arrived, the Orcs had launched their attack.

Bilbo kept close, aiding him when he needed it and Thorin repaying the favor as such.

“There’s too many,” Bilbo said, shoving back another Orc and driving Sting into the sternum. He looked around and noticed flags on Ravenhill.

“Stay here.”

“Thorin—”

He kissed Bilbo. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Bilbo grabbed his arm. “What if it’s a trap? What then?”

Thorin pried him off. “I won’t die.”

“You’d better not! When I have a chance, I’ll find you.”

Thorin nodded and mounted a war-goat, calling for Dwalin’s aid. With a final glance at Bilbo, he and Dwalin set out for Ravenhill.

#

_“He’s waking up!”_

_“Give him some air, for pi_ ty’s sake!”

Thorin groaned, opening his eyes. “Where am I?”

“You’re in Erebor.”

Thorin blinked as he gaze focused.

Bilbo smiled down at him, stroking his cheek with his knuckles.

“Thank Aule and Yavanna you’ve woken.”

“Did you have any doubt I would?” Thorin asked.

“Honestly? Your month-long hibernation gave me pause.”

A month?!

“What happened? I don’t…I remember going to Ravenhill with Dwalin…I don’t remember what happened after.”

“Well, just know that if you weren’t still very weak, I would punch you for almost getting yourself killed. You got it into your head that the only way to defeat Azog was to let him injure you. His blade narrowly missed your heart and you used it to your advantage to drive Orcrist into his heart. You almost died anyway because of that stunt. I should hit you.”

“Yes, you should, but take pity on this invalid, _amrâlimê_.”

“For now I will,” Bilbo said, kissing his forehead. “I wrote Fili and Kili that we successfully took the mountain back. And now that you’re awake, I would suggest having words with your cousin.”

“Dain?”

“The very same.”

“Why?”

“He’s under the impression that I am unworthy of being courted by you and that I shouldn’t even try courting you as well. All because I am not a Dwarf and you are the king.”

“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” Thorin asked. “I see that being a simple solution. And who else is here?”

“Bard, Balin, and Dwalin. I kicked them out just as you started to wake.”

“Good. I want to speak with you and you alone.”

Bilbo snorted. “Same. You don’t have to abdicate the throne. It’s one discontent Dwarf.”

“Who happens to be a cousin of mine and a descendant of Durin,” Thorin said. “Besides, I feel like if I stay, I’ll just keep fighting the dragon sickness, always one step away from becoming as mad as my grandfather and I don’t want to live like that. Besides, I think finding you is a good reason enough to abdicate the throne. Fili’s young, but he did a good job last time. Hopefully there won’t be any more strange accidents.”

Bilbo kissed him. “I love you. I don’t want you giving anything up for me, though.”

“It’s my decision, though.”

“After all this time? You’d just leave Erebor?”

Thorin nodded. “I love you,” he said. “You’re my home. You’re my One, my Sanzeuh. If Dain has a problem about that, that’s too bad. I’m not letting you go. And if you were to have left without me, I would have followed. I would find you. I will always find you.”

Bilbo pressed their foreheads together. “You are the sappiest Dwarf I have _ever_ met.”

“Sappier than Dwalin and Ori together?”

Bilbo snorted. “They are pretty sappy when they want to be. We could beat them if we tried, I’ll bet.”

“Are my nephews back?”

“No. Construction’s started and all, but the boys won’t be back for a while yet. It’s the dead of winter. I did, however, finally have the time to send word to my family back in the Shire. I’ll send another letter soon, telling them that I’ll be back with my intended.”

“Good idea. Mind writing the boys for me?”

“They can’t come. The weather’s inhospitable and the mountain is no place for a pregnant Dwarf.”

“I know _that_ , I still need to tell them that we’re alive and that the mountain’s ours.” Bilbo straightened, stretching. “I can do that. I’ll be back with food.”

“That sounds good. I think.”

“Something light and bland for now, just to get you started. You’ll need lots of water, too. I’ll be back.” He kissed Thorin’s forehead again and left the room.

#

“He is not a Dwarf,” Dain said. “It is impossibly rare for a Dwarf to have a One who is not _also_ a Dwarf!”

“So what I feel for him is not real,” Thorin stated, glaring daggers at Dain. Dain massaged his forehead. “You are married. With a son.”

“That is different.”

“Because your wife is a Dwarf?”

“By Mahal, you cannot just abdicate the throne for a Hobbit! A _Halfling_ —”

“Choose your next words carefully,” Thorin growled. “I am still the King under the Mountain, Dain, and Bilbo is my chosen consort. He is my One. I am certain of it.”

“Before your long-sleep, you had insisted that Sanzeuh were fairy tales. That they were bed time stories to tell children. Now you’re openly declaring an _outsider_ , albeit a Dwarf-Friend, your One. Surely you understand that this is madness—”

“Do not speak to me of madness!” Thorin bellowed. “I know my mind and my heart, Dain! It had taken me a long time to accept, but your insistence at telling me otherwise makes me wonder.”

“Thorin, I warn you not to besmirch my marriage.”

“Then why are you insistent on besmirching my intent to court Bilbo? If he will not be accepted by Durin’s Folk as my consort, then I will not be their king. It is _that_ simple. Fili did well before. I trust he will do well again and for however long his reign may last.”

Dain crossed his arms and they stared at each other challengingly. “You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?” Dain asked. Thorin shook his head and Dain sat down.

“Thorin, abdicating is _not_ that simple. The people will not understand why you’re running away from duty to be with some Half— _Hobbit_ from the West. They’ll think you weak.”

“Depends on who is telling the story,” Thorin said. “Which, by the way, seems to be Balin and the rest of my company. If Bilbo is weak, what does that make me? He saved my life time and time again, Dain. No, he is not a Dwarf, but he is my One. I know that. I do not deny wanting to pretend that it wasn’t real. It was easier then. Now I found him and you are asking me to send him away. I was miserable because of how strong my longing was, Dain. Miserable enough to try and wed Kili to someone he did not love. Do you really think I’m faking what I feel?”

Dain looked up. “No. I don’t. I know how it feels as much as anyone else.” He sighed. “King Fili, huh?”

Thorin snorted. “I’m never going to get used to that, am I?”

“I doubt any of us will.”

“It could be worse,” he said, smirking. “It could be King Kili.” Dain winced and Thorin laid back down. “I trust they’ll both do a good job. They had good teachers.”

“And a good role model. In the meantime, I do not think it wise to let Bilbo continue the negotiations.”

“Then don’t negotiate with him. You’re the only one who has a problem with him speaking on my behalf, but his presence had done what I could not, Dain. He is good at what he does and I do not see why he should not speak for me as he is my intended.”

“And when he breaks your heart?”

“I don’t think he will. I trust he won’t,” Thorin said. “For the first time in my life I am happy. Truly, unapologetically happy in a way I’ve never been before.”

Dain looked up. “All right. Just hold onto the position until the boys are able to come back.”

“I can do that. Bilbo already wrote to his relatives assuring our return in the future, though at an unidentified date as of yet.” Dain nodded and stood.

“I still think it is risky, but I will admit he does a good job at filling in for you. Be careful, though,” he said. “I would rather not see dissent because of who you chose to make your consort.”

“We’re still courting, Dain.”

“How is that going, by the way?”

“For now, at least I’m never hungry,” Thorin said, grinning. Bilbo did make good food and the cake from last night…he wondered where he was getting what he needed to make, but Thorin wasn’t going to complain. “When I am not bedridden, I will take up my part of our courtship. For now, I eat good food and have a beautiful man looking after me. I can’t really complain.”

Dain rolled his eyes and left, almost knocking into Bilbo. They exchanged apologies and Dain strode away as Bilbo closed the door behind him.

“ _I have a beautiful man looking after me_ ,” he repeated, miming Thorin’s deep voice as best he could. Thorin laughed. “ _I can’t complain_. Well, I know my value now, at least.”

“No you don’t. That’s just a small fraction of the whole.”

“Sure it is,” Bilbo said, kissing him. “We’ve letters from the boys.” He set the envelopes on Thorin’s chest. “So be sure to read them. And I got news from the Shire. Apparently, I have some rather unpleasant relatives living my house who refuse to leave.”

Thorin’s humor vanished. “What?”

“We’ll take care of it when we get there,” he promised. “At the moment, the Thain, my uncle, is doing what he can to get them out of my house.”

“If it is not theirs to take—”

“It’s a lineage sort of thing, except instead of a seat, it’s a house.”

“It is not the same.”

“I know, but that is how it is. Besides, we have swords. That will be more than enough to scare them off my property.”

“What would count as ‘enough’ if swords are more than enough?”

“You,” Bilbo said, grinning. Thorin snorted.

“And I’m the sap.”

“It is not sappy if it is true,” Bilbo said, kissing him. “Now read the letters and I’ll come up with potato leek soup in a bit.”

“All right.” He watched Bilbo leave the room, smiling at the door. A part of him was a little sad about leaving Erebor, but it likely wouldn’t be forever. This wasn’t his home. Not anymore. It would always be a part of him, but home for him was in the form of a brave Hobbit.

For him, home was not a place. It was Bilbo.

And with Bilbo, his home would remain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Sorry about not getting this up yesterday, but anyway...  
> Feel free to send story ideas/pairings/fairy tales you want to see done and remember a list of what's coming is on the series' homepage.
> 
> Next in series is "The Best Music" based off of the story "The Princess Who Never Smiled" featuring Dis and her canonical husband.
> 
> As for what happens with Beorn, that will be explained in Story #10, "Wild Heart" which is based off of the fairy tale Bearskin. 
> 
> I mention that because I'm sure some might want that explained first and since I won't be getting to the next part in this series for a little while (with the In the Flesh Big Bang coming up and also my vampire!Bilbo story at work), so I would like you guys to decide which story comes next.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading!


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